Cobalt Steel
by CosmicRust
Summary: This wasn't the first time someone with a cobalt paint job had walked into Knock Out's life, and he was really beginning to hate that color now.
1. Chapter 1

Knock Out had never felt his spark flutter. He'd felt it blaze, surge, tremor, and leap on occasion, but it never fluttered. At least, he couldn't remember if it ever had. The sensation was foreign, heavy, and it tickled in a thick, syrupy way.

Like other spark anomalies, this caused static to run up and down his shell and brought his innermost energon to a momentary low boil.

This didn't bother Knock Out too much. As long as he didn't accidentally brush past someone, no one would notice. What bothered him was the effect it had on his EM field.

The thin, almost unnoticeable, layer of radiation was a simple factor of a Cybertronian's life. But, it was generated though one's spark and reacted to anything their spark did. When the life-giving force was under stress or functioning out of the norm, its resulting field grew stronger and others could feel it if they were near. It was almost like an empathetic response.

The first time his spark fluttered, Knock Out had been accompanying Bumblebee on some morning patrols. More and more bots were returning home nearly every day now, and Ultra Magnus had sent the two of them to keep watch.

Bumblebee hadn't made a move towards conversation, and Knock Out was all in for doing it for him. And, as usual, the first thing to pipe from his vocalizer was a complaint.

"Why did Magnus have to send us out _this_ early?" He whined. "Who's going to land anywhere at _this_ cycle?"

Bumblebee had tuned him out before his griping had even begun. "I don't know."

Knock Out scoffed. "Such an obedient little soldier, aren't you?" He mocked. "Doesn't it bother you how your new commander treats you like a scout?"

Bumblebee's mirrors shifted in a sort of shrug, but he offered no verbal answer.

Knock Out decided that he wasn't going to get much else out of his comrade.

Ever since Optimus Prime had hurled himself into the Well of All Sparks, there wasn't much talking from anyone. Well, except Knock Out, who wasn't all too keen on their sudden loss for words. Even when newcomers arrived, they seemed to go into silence when they heard of their beloved leader's fate. If you asked Knock Out, and no one did, it was all a little too over dramatic.

Even his new assistant, First Aid, was too quiet. He was friendlier, much younger, and was far more pleasant than Ratchet. But, he was only another addition to the silent choir of somber faces. Plus, he wasn't nearly as skilled with a buffer as Breakdown had been.

The two sports cars continued on without a word. Knock Out let Bumblebee take the lead as he let himself slow down. It was too early for this. He was about to rest his sight sensors for a little bit when something shot past him. The vehicle was going full speed and their engine alerted Knock Out with start. He watched as Arcee whizzed in front of them, paying them no mind.

Being passed stirred a bit of agitation in the ex-Decepticon. He hadn't chosen an aerodynamic alt. mode only to keep up his image. He had bothered Bumblebee and Smokescreen several times to race him. Though Smokescreen occasionally agreed, it wasn't enough to kill Knock Out's boredom.

He wondered why Arcee was out this early. Maybe, if he caught up with her, she might tell him. That sounded like a good enough excuse to go after her, so he revved his engines and took off, mounting speed as he neared the blue motorbike. He didn't hear Bumblebee protest.

Knock Out gained on Arcee, who had slowed down a few notches and was almost at a leisurely speed. Just as Knock Out was able to pull up beside her, she sped up, leaving him in her dust.

Teasing him, eh? Knock Out felt competitive excitement boil inside him. He gunned his engines, taking the lead. Arcee made a sudden, sharp right turn that Knock Out almost didn't see. He hastily swerved in the same direction.

The femme had dashed from the open, flat area she had previously been and into a more urban area, burying herself in the winding, multilayered streets. Knock Out took up another path running below hers. He raced just below her until her road veered off in another direction. Knock Out screeched to a halt, spun around, and went back the way he came. He knew an entrance ramp where he could head her off. He arrived at the ramp to see that the road above it had crumbled away and covered his ramp in rubble. Knock Out hated dead ends. He worked himself back into robot mode and looked up.

Arcee was perched on the edge of the street above, still in vehicle mode. She suddenly disappeared in reverse. Knock Out smirked. Surely she wasn't going to try and make that jump. He didn't have much time to react as Arcee bolted forward off the road and into the air. Knock Out climbed the crumbled street before him and watched his teammate sail across the gaping break. In mid air she transformed, legs out in front of her. She stuck the landing and straightened out.

Knock Out had always been one to admire grace, and Arcee was no exception. Save for the slightly wobbly landing, her jump had been precise and slick.

Then he felt it. Something stirred deep in his spark that surfaced in a way that made Knock Out's throat burn, his legs feel a little numb, and caused a lazy smile to spread across his face. The sensation made him feel happy, but it quickly turned into embarrassment as Arcee peered over the edge above to see him. She disappeared again and Knock Out rubbed his head a little. Regaining his regular composure, he jumped down from the pile of scrap, quickly went into vehicle mode, and drove off. Something told him that he had obviously lost that race.

He had headed back to the new, in progress, base he now shared with bots whom had previously been his enemies. He fought to keep his EM field under control as he made his way back to his quarters. He made sure to walk on the opposite side of the corridors as he passed a few of his colleagues. He opened the door to the med bay, ducked inside, shut it, and relaxed. He never noticed how hard it was to keep his field unnoticeable when his spark was acting up.

First Aid's shoulders went up in alert and turned to see the CMO. Knock Out hadn't even noticed that he was there.

"Whoa, I, uh…appreciate the sentiment, Knock Out, but I-"

Knock Out folded his arms self-consciously and wrestled his field down. "What? That's not…what makes you think…!?"

First Aid's shoulders went neutral again. He almost looked relieved that the warm radiation wasn't directed towards him.

Knock Out had never really liked how his assistant had no actual face. All he had was a visor and a mouth guard on his profile, not to mention those weird looking plates on either side of his helm. He was the perfect example of predesignated function. He looked just as rounded, boxy, and soft as most medics did.

Aid's visor flickered in a sort of smile. "Anything happen back there-"

"No!" Knock Out answered quickly. "It's just…nothing! It's nothing." He struggled to regain his usual, haughty, posture.

"Doesn't sound like 'nothing'," Aid replied, his voice having a mockingly patronizing edge. "We wouldn't want our chief medic falling ill, would we?"

"I'm not ill," Knock Out snapped. His EM was replaced with an irritable air as he pushed past First Aid. First Aid shrugged and went back to is own business.

Knock Out set himself in front of his medical tools, arranging them in a needlessly meticulous order. He needed something to clear his mind, no matter how ridiculous it was.


	2. Chapter 2

He had no tools that started with Z.

Knock Out had been alphabetizing his tools. There was nothing else to do but organize things nowadays. He had already gone by shape, size, and number of blades. He hadn't considered arranging them by first letter until today, and the biggest disappointment this week was that he had no "Z" tools. He couldn't even think of a "Z" tool.

Knock Out tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.

Well, this was it. This was his life now. No more heated battles, no more fetching relics, no more having the pleasure of dissecting his leader's enemies. Just sitting and waiting for a mech to need light repairs, and that rarely ever happened.

The hotrod propped his peds up on his desk and leaned back in his chair. His arms hung loosely at his sides.

First Aid wasn't there at the moment. He had gone to help with the city's repairs. Knock Out scoffed. It would be a miracle if he was of any use. The guy barely came up to Knock Out's shoulder. Knock Out had considered helping. Truth be told, there were plenty of things to do other than sit in the medbay and rust. He was never ordered to stay here, but something always kept him locked away. Aside from a few newcomers that knew of Knock Out's "mad doctor" status, no one had been particularly unkind to him; wary, but not unkind. Still, he couldn't shake the sense that he wasn't wanted. It wasn't like Knock Out to feel insecure, but being surrounded by once-sworn enemies was definitely jarring. Interacting with them was strange and something he didn't take joy in.

So, here he stayed unless ordered to do otherwise. He had never been fond of solitude until now, and it wasn't like anyone visited him. Ever.

He craned his neck back to peer at the doorway as it opened. The pedsteps were light, but lighter than First Aid's. "Knock Out, we need you! Now!"

Arcee stood urgently in the hallway, waiting for him to respond. He hung backwards over the chair for a second or two then shook his head, tumbling out of the chair. He awkwardly picked himself up and hurried to follow Arcee out the door. What was his problem with coordination, lately?

At the exit to the base, Arcee somersaulted into vehicle mode and raced off. Dazed and confused, Knock Out quickly did the same and caught up to her easily. Before he could say anything, the motorbike answered his question.

"A ship arrived. The passengers have some kind of disease."

Knock Out stole himself from his befuddlement and tried his voice.

"What symptoms?" It came out sterner than he had planned, but it made for a good recovery after falling out of a chair.

"They're covered in dissolving welts. Whatever it is, it's _literally_ eating them."

Literally eating them? Wait, did she mean…? Knock Out resisted the urge to slam his breaks in exasperation.

"What you just described to me is Cosmic Rust," the sports car said slowly, flatly. "One of the most easily-cured diseases known to Cybertron. I have _barrels_ of Corrostop gathering dust! There's no need for the rush!"

Arcee didn't answer him and Knock Out huffed his engines. He was one quick Corrostop scrub down away from going back to doing absolutely nothing.

The wing tips of the clumsily-landed ship came into view as the two arrived at the scene. It was a small craft, almost the size of an escape pod. Knock Out transformed and approached the pod leisurely on foot, his signature smug posture taking shape. The pod was already sealed shut and three faceless mechs lay on the ground. First Aid was already there, crouched over the largest mech; possibly the leader.

"We can help you," First Aid was speaking in a soft but firm tone. "But you need to let us do our job."

"No…no!" the mech croaked, shielding his face weakly. "Get back! Don't touch me!"

Knock Out stood over them, arms folded. Smokescreen and Bulkhead were standing a measurable distance away, Arcee joining them.

_What, afraid of a little rust? _He thought.

"Dramatic bunch, aren't they?" Knock Out mused to First Aid. Aid and the three infected bots glanced up at the CMO. At face value, the issue indeed looked like a rather violent case of Cosmic Rust. The three mechs were covered in dark blue blotches that seemed to slowly get worse the more Knock Out looked at them. The other two bots seemed to be on their way out of consciousness, obviously exhausted from being in so much pain. But, their leader was fighting to stay awake, eyes wild and frame tense.

"Please," he choked out. "Just leave us alone! You'll be infected too!"

The leader gazed up at Knock Out, searching his optics for some understanding, but Knock Out offered him a patronizing glare instead. The medic thought of something equally patronizing to say, but he wasn't up for gracing this mech's misplaced terror with further response.

"If you had just commed me, I would have brought some Corrostop along," Knock Out said to First Aid, prepared to send the nurse to go and fetch some. First Aid was about to reply when the leader made a frustrated and fearful noise.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Corrostop won't help! This isn't what you think it is!" The large mech's voice climbed in pitch. "I'm _begging_ you, leave us!" A patch of blue rust started working at the leader's face.

First Aid looked up at Knock Out again and held out a small canister of Corrostop, reminding Knock Out yet again how the remedy for this illness was such a commodity. "I've used up the entire thing on just this one, but there hasn't been any improvement," Aid said. "They'll need a complete wash down at this point, but they obviously can't make it to the medbay on their own."

The leader's voice was now a frustrated and hopeless tone as he grabbed feebly at Knock Out's ankle. "P-please, talk some sense into your nurse! Don't you understand!? You're all in danger by just being anywhere around us!"

If Knock Out didn't know better, he could have sworn the 'bot speaking to him was on the verge of tears. "Please…_please _just-"

"Will you _shut up_ already?" Knock Out groaned, deciding that he had heard just about enough sniveling from this one. "Take this one back to base, First Aid. And you, Bulkhead," he called out to the large green bot. "Take the other two and follow First Aid back."

A little slower that Knock Out would have liked, Bulkhead approached with Arcee and Bumblebee in tow, the same look of concern with a hint of resentment across their faceplates. Bulkhead was noticeably hesitant in transforming and Arcee and Bumblebee were even more hesitant to keelhaul the other two nameless 'bots into Bulkhead and First Aid.

They made it back to the base and the three newcomers were quickly shut inside a chemical shower room. Three gurney slabs had to be moved into the room to unload the immobile bots onto. The first bout of Corrostop dowsing included Bulkhead and First Aid as well, seeing as they were the transportation for the infected 'bots. Afterwards, First Aid looked the three others over for any signs of improvement. He found none. They were doused again, a little longer this time, still with no improvement. They were washed down again and again, and as Knock Out oversaw the procedure at its unnatural length, he finally began to grow a tad concerned as well. The patients weren't responding at all and just continued wasting away. First Aid emerged from the shower room again, giving a confused and worried glance to Knock Out. They had been at this for quite a few hours and it was getting late.

The Aston Martin turned his sight to the shower room and at the patients, who had slipped quite agonizingly into unconsciousness forty five minutes ago. "How much Corrostop do we have left?"

"About another full barrel," First Aid replied. "But, I think we should give them a break. We might be overmedicating them."

Knock Out nodded. "Move them into quarantine. We'll check on them in another hour or so."

The two of them rolled the three 'bots into quarantine and left them the sleep of their ordeal. Knock Out trudged back to his quarters, begrudgingly thinking of new ways to organize his tools.

"Knock Out!"

First Aid scrambled to Knock Out's quarters, visibly shaken and on edge. Knock Out followed his nurse quickly towards quarantine and looked inside.

There in the sealed room, the three patients were gone, and in their place were sprinklings of cobalt dust.

The red rings in Knock Out's optics dilated as he realized that the three 'bots had completely disintegrated.

Word got around quickly about the three newcomers and their disturbing fate. In a sluggishly-growing community of 800 or less, even the smallest news spread like fire across an oil lake. Everyone was concerned, shocked, and confused. Some stayed far away from Knock Out's little clinic, while others flocked to it to witness the dark cerulean remains of the patients.

Of course, the ever noble Team Prime was jumping through hoops to calm everyone down. They were even more swamped with curious and worried 'bots as Knock Out and First Aid were.

Knock Out wasn't part of Team Prime. He hadn't been invited to be, and he was actually okay with that. Many would have assumed that the flashy and grandstanding Knock Out would obviously want to be part of such a social scene, but such was not the case, at least not now. Knock Out saw First Aid more than anyone, and First Aid was pretty easy to talk to. They had never met before the war and didn't have the sour taste of rivalry between them to deal with.

Still, First Aid wasn't nearly as keen on racing or things of the like, neither was he involved with cosmetics as Knock Out was, being an ambulance and a nurse and all. Ambulances weren't very, well, aerodynamic. So, conversations on such topics were very one-sided.

The two doctors had finished clearing out the clinic and Knock Out felt wound up and tense from all the questioning. After the daily crowd left, Knock Out almost immediately transformed and took off for a nice, long drive. The night air felt good as it rushed over his exterior. It was just the right thing for a cluttered processor. He sped to his maximum speed for a while until he decided to slow to a smooth cruise. He even drifted from side to side, working an even, wavy line into his tire trail. He could never do this on Earth, too many other cars and way too many suspicious human onlookers.

After an hour and a half, Knock Out turned and headed back home. He drove in sweet, sweet silence for a while until something caught his eye. In the distance another, smaller vehicle was rolling at an even pace. The moonlight caught the other 'bot and Knock Out got a better look at them. They were a motorbike, the color of the night sky.

Arcee.

Knock Out and Arcee were a good 200 feet away from each other, driving at the same speed. Knock Out caught himself staring and didn't stop his wheels from veering in her direction. He approached her in an inconspicuous manner, which would have worked if they weren't in the middle of nowhere. A lot of Cybertron could be categorized as "the middle of nowhere" now, actually.

He expected Arcee to speed up or turn away, but she didn't seem to bother with it. Knock Out pulled in alongside her. Neither of them spoke at first.

"…long day?" Knock Out quipped, not expecting a reply.

"Yeah," Arcee said, flatly. "You, too?"

"Yeah," Knock Out returned. That's when he realized that was suddenly very bored without conversation. "So…what happened?"

"The usual," the motorbike said. "Questions everywhere, people anxious for answers I don't have, that sort of thing."

Knock Out made a noise of acknowledgement. "I know the feeling."

"We're bridging Ratchet here in the morning. Maybe he'll know what's up."

"Ratchet!?" Knock Out exclaimed, and then realized that may have not been the smartest move. "I mean…why Ratchet? He'll probably be just as baffled as I am."

Arcee's mirrors rolled as if she were rolling her optics. "Ratchet's been in the medic business longer than you. Plus, he was good friends with Perceptor: the mech who invented Corrostop."

"Yes, I know who invented Corrostop," Knock Out replied, irritated. Everyone knew Perceptor, Mr. "I deleted my own personality to make room for more knowledge". What a blowhard.

Knock Out wasn't at all pleased by the idea of sharing a workspace with Ratchet of all 'bots, not again. Nothing like a patronizing old geezer to make you feel inadequate at your profession.

They neared the base and Knock Out began to feel drowsy. He had burnt out the last of his energy on the drive and could really use some recharge. As if on que, Arcee let a stifled yawn escape. Something about Arcee sharing his exhaustion made Knock Out feel a little less awkward. While he actually enjoyed Arcee's company, he wasn't sure if the feeling was mutual. She was just another member of a commanding group he had no interest of being a part of, but driving with her reminded him of just how lonely and drab his life was now. He would have almost missed his job on the Nemesis if every nook and cranny of that damned ship didn't remind him of…someone he had cared about a long time ago.

He suddenly grew tired of Arcee's navy paint job. Good timing, too. They had arrived at the base and it was time to go their separate ways. They transformered and headed to their respective wings of the base.

"G'night," Arcee murmured as she walked away. Knock Out was more surprised by her words than he should have been.

"Good night, Arcee," He replied, watching her go. The moon still bounced off her features. He tried to remind himself of how weary he was of her color, but it still made his spark lurch.

As the night dragged on, Knock Out was plagued by dreams. But, they weren't just dreams, they were memories; memories Knock Out had tried to suppress and forget. But, the all too familiar large, dark blue mech was still a vivid stain on his processor.

He woke up periodically though the night. But, when the blue figure in his dream became smaller and their optics suddenly became the color of the sky, he didn't go back to sleep. Instead, he just stared at the ceiling, trying to ward off the ache in his chest and the tightness in his throat.

He was so sick of cobalt.


	3. Chapter 3

Knock Out fought to keep his optics in focus as he headed up the corridors of the base with First Aid, who had clearly had more sleep than him.

Arcee had been truthful when she said they were bridging Ratchet back to Cybertron and Knock Out and Aid had to greet him along with the others. Goodie.

When the arrived they took their place at the end of the small semicircle that had formed near the spacebridge. Knock Out was surprised to notice how Team Prime had gained a few new members since he had last seen them. A large red, black, and silver mech stood adjacent to him, speaking with another 'bot of smaller size with an oddly-shaped blue helm.

Ironhide and Mirage. Knock Out had never met them, but he had heard of them. He could have sworn they had died at some point. Guess not.

Prowl was there, too. He wasn't talking to anyone. Standing between him and Smokescreen was Arcee. Knock Out averted his gaze when she turned her head in his direction.

"Blaster," Ultra Magnus's voice rose against the idle chatter, causing a gradual hush. "Open the spacebridge."

The semi circle of 'bots backed off as the spiraling cave of wires and metal whirled to life. After a few seconds, a familiar engine was heard as Ratchet rolled into the hub and transformed. His gaze swept across the group and almost instantly softened. Knock Out watched as the old medic breezed right past him and greeted Ironhide with a warm handshake. Mirage, Blaster, and Prowl all gathered to see him, their combined elated EM fields making Knock Out feel nauseous from all the sappiness.

The new and old Team Prime together again. How sweet.

"Sorry to break this up," Bumblebee interjected, clearing his vocalizer awkwardly. "But, we called you here for a reason, Ratch."

"Right, right," Ratchet replied, suddenly turning to Knock Out. "Show me what you found."

Knock Out and First Aid led Ratchet to the quarantine chamber and showed him the dusty remains. "Incredible," Ratchet breathed. "You said they were gone in a couple of hours?"

"Yes," First Aid said. "We used nearly all of our Corrostop recourses, but there was no change in their condition. Then we left them for observation and they just…"

Ratchet nodded sagely. "I see." He took a quick look around. "Has anyone else come in contact with them?"

"Just us, Arcee, Bumblebee, ad Bulkhead," First Aid answered. "But, we haven't shown any signs of deterioration."

Ratchet shook his head. "I still want them looked at. Have them come down here. I want to check you two, also."

Knock Out let out a barely audible grumble. Ratchet was here for five minutes and he was already taking his job. When he realized that Ratchet and First Aid were both looking at him, he turned and headed bitterly to the communications console and typed up the hub's hailing frequency. "Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Arcee, come to the medbay. I-…_Ratchet _wants to see you."

Knock Out dusted himself off as he exited his own examination room. Ratchet hadn't found anything on him and the Aston Martin wad more than happy to leave him to the others. Once everyone else heard that Ratchet was back, several other 'bots came in to be checked out as well. Knock Out even saw some that had sworn to avoid the clinic like the Cybonic Plague.

Correction, they had sworn to avoid _him_ like the Cybonic Plague.

The other civilians' expressions when they saw Ratchet were less "please don't chop me into scraplet-sized pieces" and more "oh thank God it's you".

Knock Out didn't realize how long he had been standing there, stewing in his vexation, until First Aid walked out of the examination room and turned to look at him. "What," Aid smirked. "Do you think you need to go through there again?"

"Wh- no." Knock Out replied, brushing off his nurse. "I'm fine."

"You all clean?" Aid asked. Knock Out folded his arms. "Of course I am. Ratchet isn't the only medical expert here. I could have told him I was okay."

He glanced into the exam room again. Arcee was in there, complying with everything Ratchet did. She didn't look nearly as discontented as Knock Out felt and instead was visibly more relaxed. Come to think of it, she had been more relaxed after Ratchet had arrived than Knock Out had ever seen her. Of course, everyone had been more content with Ratchet's arrival. But, now Knock Out was feeling a disgruntled heat sit like a rock in his chest. He narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe patients would react better to you if you stopped threatening them with your buzz saw," Aid said to Knock Out's grousing posture. Knock Out spun around. "I _like_ my buzz saw." He grunted. "Besides, what's Ratchet know that I don't? Everyone's acting like he's the only medical professional on this planet."

Aid shrugged. "He knows Perceptor. And if we can't find Perceptor, Ratchet's our next best 'bot."

"So what if he knew Perceptor once?" Knock Out snapped. "I knew Starscream once. Does that make me as much of a backstabbing prick as he is?"

"…I'm not going to answer that."

Knock Out sighed. "Never mind. Forget it." He turned away from the exam room. "Let's just go get something to eat. I haven't had any breakfast."

Ratchet had found something on Bumblebee. A large and steadily growing welt had appeared on his forearm under his primary plating.

It was amazing how fast 'bots cleared out of the clinic as soon as this discovery was made. Ratchet had ordered Knock Out and First Aid to fetch a good amount of nanite gel to apply to the welt. That would keep the rust under control, but not for long.

Days went by, and those who had stayed away from the clinic gravitated towards it again. More welts were popping up on others. They were mostly on the arms and legs, but few had welts on their abdomen or chest.

To Knock Out's displeasure, Ratchet's stay was prolonged and the three doctors had their work cut out for them. Patients began piling up, so much so that the medbay had to be temporarily extended.

Weeks passed. Some mechs packed up and left in that time. Some moved away from the city of Iacon, while a few just up and left Cybertron all together.

Citizens that were still in Iacon grew more restless than before. Many demanded to know why none of the ill were getting any better. No matter what Team Prime said, suspicions and distrust continued to rise. Knock Out saw Arcee go out for drives more frequently, but he never followed her. Unlike her, he was on around-the-clock duty tending to the rust-laden patients.

Every so often, Arcee and some of the others would help care for the patients, which took the edge off some days. Their presence was in direct proportion to Bumblebee's worsening condition.

There had been days when Bee would be sitting up on his recharge slab, expectantly waiting for Ratchet or Knock Out to arrive for his daily once-over. Bee insisted that he felt well enough to help the other patients, but he was always denied by Ratchet, who genuinely cared for the yellow sports car, or by Knock Out, who was simply following orders.

Those days were over. Bumblebee's arm eventually got so bad that Ratchet had thought to amputate it. He did, but not fast enough. Bee was now one arm short and in a pretty decent amount of pain. He slept a lot, now.

Then the day arrived when Ratchet made a rather unnerving discovery. He called Knock Out and First Aid together immediately after he did.

"People are starting to get distressed about you cutting off the Corrostop treatments," First Aid had said. "We can't keep them calm much longer."

"Then tell them this," Ratchet said, gravely. He grabbed a petri dish from the counter to his left and presented it to them. Inside was a tiny sample of the Cosmic Rust. Ratchet then took an eyedropper with a bit of Corrostop in it, squeezed a little into the dish, and quickly set it back on the counter. The rust ate through the dish in seconds, made short work of the countertop, and dissolved two drawers before it sputtered out onto the third. Ratchet turned to Aid and Knock Out again, who were both wide-eyed.

"This is_ not_ Cosmic Rust," Ratchet concluded, punctuating every word.

Knock Out stole his voice back. "Then, what is it?"

Ratchet paused. "I don't know."

Knock Out almost took pleasure in hearing such words come from Ratchet. But, it wasn't like he himself knew anything either.

"It eats like Cosmic Rust, it spreads like Cosmic Rust, it looks like Cosmic Rust," Ratchet scraped the remaining sprinklings into another petri dish. "But Corrostop only makes it worse. And it not only eats metal, but almost everything. Glass, plastic, even Energon. And Cosmic Rust keeps eating, but this stuff tires out. Unless it has more Corrostop or something like it to feed on, that is."

First Aid's visor dimmed with apprehension. " Well, what are we supposed to tell everyone?" He asked. "They're already panicked enough as it is."

"And we can't just _not _treat them," Knock Out added.

Ratchet's optics shifted to both doctors. "Then tell them we'll find someone who can," he said. "We need to locate Perceptor."


	4. Chapter 4

"We'vebeen_ trying_ to locate Perceptor," Blaster had said. "His hailing frequency is dead, his signature isn't within range, and no one's seen or heard from him in ages. He might as well have dropped off the edge of the universe."

"So, you think he's stranded somewhere?" First Aid asked. "It's not like Perceptor to just disappear."

Blaster shrugged. "Chances are the war drove him out like everyone else. If he told us where he was going, we didn't get the message."

Amputations were being made almost every day, and Knock Out nor Ratchet had time to rebuild lost limbs. Even now, with the added help of some new volunteers whom Knock Out was more than happy to welcome, work still moved at a road-paver's pace.

No one wanted to wait for Perceptor. Some began to believe that no effort was made to contact him. This was made clear when one patient, delirious with pain and probably sedatives, began shouting when Knock Out went to look him over.

"It's you!" the mech screeched as soon as Knock Out walked up to him. "This- all of this is your fault!"

Other patients (the ones that could, anyway) craned their necks to watch the commotion. The shouting mech, seeing that he had a somewhat captive audience, continued.

"I know you! Everyone knows you and no one trusts you! Why isn't Perceptor here!? Why aren't you telling us anything!?"

Knock Out looked at all the optics on him. Before he could even think of some answer, he was interrupted by the soapboxing mech behind him.

"I'll tell you why: this one here," he pointed accusingly at Knock Out. "he worked with Megatron directly! And no one changes sides that quickly!" Feebly, the patient tried to sit up, but failed. "This is your plan, isn't it? You're going to infect us Autobots one by one and leave us all here to die!"

An uproar rose from the other patients. Knock Out reflexively took a defensive stance. "None of that is true!" He tried to shout over the noise. "He's out of his mind!"

"Decepticon!" the patient cried. "He's deceiving you all! That's all he knows: deception!"

Knock Out couldn't deny the patient loud enough. Everything he said was drowned out by the others. Heat boiled in the pits of his tanks, rose through his spark chamber and roared in his processor until he was suddenly bracing himself with his buzz saw held out beside him and revving. The shouting and accusing died down and left the growling o the saw to prevail as Knock Out took a fake swing at some of the group before marching over to stand threateningly over the patient that had first spoken.

"One more word…" Knock Out snarled, bringing his saw dangerously close to the patient's face. "and I'll make sure it's the last word that ever crackles out of your vocalizer!"

"Knock Out, stop!" First Aid yelled from a few feet away.

Knock Out looked over his shoulder at the nurse. Aid had his hands out in front of him and was slowly approaching the Aston Martin. "Take it easy. Put the saw away and step back from the 'bot."

Knock Out glared back at the patient, who's optics darted from him to the saw still hovering over him. The saw slowed to a stop and retracted into Knock Out's arm. He turned from the patient quickly to stare daggers into the other 'bots watching. He hadn't realized how hard he was venting. Whatever heat was possessing him immediately froze over into icy claws raking his spinal strut. He jerked when he felt First Aid's hand tap gently on his arm. He led Knock Out towards the exit.

"Nothing to see here," Aid announced to the others. "Please go back to resting. We'll be with you in moment."

"Don't come back, Decepticreep!" someone answered as the door slid shut behind them.

Knock Out pulled his arm from First Aid's light grip and stormed up the hallway.

"That guy was on narcotics," First Aid called, following the other doctor. "'Bots say a lot of things while on that stuff."

"Yeah," Knock Out barked back. "And the others_ listened_."

"Why does that even matter to you? Last time I heard of you, you were Knock Out: the guy that doesn't give Rattrap's aft about what anyone says!" First Aid said, catching up to Knock Out. But, Knock Out stopped and rounded on him.

"I've spent weeks devoting my time to them, cleaning up after them and, you know, making sure they don't up and turn to ash," Knock Out growled. "And _this_ is how they repay me? I've been trapped in a sea of decaying metal for an ungodly amount of hours, I haven't even gotten a break to get any sleep, and they _still _bite the servo that _literally_ feeds them!" He paused. "And_ please_ don't give me the whole 'this isn't about me, it's about the patients' speech. Ratchet already filled me in on that tired mantra."

Knock Out's voice had died from a rage-induced snarl to a defeated sigh. His optics were aimed at the floor.

"I get it," First Aid said. "It's not exactly a secret that tensions are high with you and…everyone. But, performances like that aren't going to help anything."

Knock Out didn't look up.

"Look," First Aid started again. "It's not like no one recognizes your efforts. I'm glad you're here and, believe it or not, Ratchet is too. With an epidemic like this, we need all the medical expertise we can get." He turned back to the medbay. "Maybe it's because I'm too optimistic for my own good like you say, but I think you'll prove yourself soon enough. And, hey, I haven't given up on you yet."

Knock Out looked up in time to notice that First Aid had a limp.

"Ratchet!"

Knock Out looked up from one of the patients he was checking on when he heard Arcee's voice above the common din of the medbay. He saw her moving like she was weighted down. He craned his head and found out that the weight was First Aid. An unseen force dragged Knock Out's peds towards them. First Aid was small, but still bigger than Arcee. Knock Out supported the nurse's other side and they found somewhere for First Aid to sit.

First Aid's right leg was a jagged stub.

"Found him on the floor," Arcee said as Knock Out searched First Aid for any more rust. "A patient flagged me down and pointed him out to me." The femme arranged First Aid into as comfortable a sitting position as she could. Knock Out grabbed Aid's chin and turned his head towards him. There was a welt in the side of his face. When Knock Out let go Aid's visor brightened and his head lulled up into an awake, albeit foggy, position.

"Arcee?" he mumbled. "…What am I doing on the floor?"

Arcee glanced at what was left of Aid's leg and made a face. "Let's say your leg went out from under you."

"No, it couldn't have eaten his entire leg that fast," Knock Out said, examining the stub. "That rust would have had to be working for…days at least." He looked up as Aid. "You knew you were infected."

First Aid's optic ridges drew together. "What, this? It's just a-…oh. It got worse."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Knock Out said exasperatedly. "You should have been resting, not working!"

Aid's visor flashed indignantly. "Incase you haven't noticed, we're a little short handed. You need me here!"

"What we need is for you to shut up and heal up," Knock Out snapped. He and Arcee lifted Aid by the shoulders again eventually found him a cot. It was a miracle they found one, especially now. They set him down and Knock Out stared down at the welt splitting Aid's face. Those icy claws from before drug into his processor as he literally watched his nurse die under his supervision.

"Go find Ratchet," Knock Out said to Arcee before charging off.

"And where are you going?" Arcee asked, her voice laced with something accusatory.

Knock Out looked over his shoulder and snatched her cold blue gaze with his crimson one. "To prove myself."


	5. Chapter 5

Knock Out had shut himself in his quarters. The only time anyone saw him was when he went to grab something before retreating back into his room. He didn't say a word to anyone and ignored them outright if they tried to talk to him.

Smokescreen managed to get an "I'm busy" out of him once when he ran into the Aston Martin gathering some chemicals Smokescreen couldn't identify.

Knock Out was continuing his work when someone rapped lightly on his door. Knock Out let own an exaggerated sigh. "I'm _working._"

"Well, now you're eating," Arcee's voice said through the door. "Ratchet doesn't want you staving yourself in there."

Knock Out was about to retort when the gnawing emptiness in his tanks decided it would no longer be ignored. He glanced at his work and stuffed it into a cabinet under his desk. "The door's open."

The four components of the door hissed open and Arcee walked in with an Energon cube in hand. From her expression it looked like she had ben prepared to force feed the contents of the cube to the exhausted-looking mech before her. Knock Out didn't put up a fight, however, and took the cube and downed it. He shoved the empty cube back into Arcee's hands. "Now, if you don't' mind, I was in the middle of something."

Arcee made a quiet scoffing sound. "You're welcome."

She was almost through the exit when she heard a quiet "thanks" mumbled from Knock Out. She stopped and turned a little in his direction. He was turned towards his desk but hadn't made a move to do anything. Whatever he was making, he didn't want anyone to see.

"What have you even been doing in here?" Arcee asked, turning fully to him. "Ever since First Aid became bed ridden, all you've done is…whatever you're doing in here. It's kind of suspicious-"

"Are you doing to leave," Knock Out interrupted. "Or am I going to have to make you?"

Arcee put her hands up in mock surrender. "Fine. Don't tell me."

"It isn't any of your business," Knock Out muttered.

"It's my business when one of our medics suddenly goes missing. You have responsibilities, you know," Arcee said back. "Just because you were a Decepticon doesn't mean you can be shady without somebody questioning it."

Knock Out brought his fists down on the desk loudly, tensing against it. Both he and Arcee were silent for a few kliks.

"You know what," Arcee said finally, exiting the room. "Sorry I even asked."

Knock Out waited until she was truly gone and retrieved his concoction from the cabinet. He added a few more things to it and stepped back. It was finished. But, the more he looked at it, the more he questioned if it would fix anything.

It was worth a shot.

"First Aid?"

First Aid's visor lit up slowly as he tried to pinpoint whom had spoken to him. Knock Out walked a little closer and into his restricted view. He almost forgot about Aid's lack of peripheral vision. "Knock Out? Where have you been?" Aid's voice was suddenly very serious. "Ratchet's been swamped with all the work you left for him!"

"I know," Knock Out replied. "But, it'll be all worth it, I promise."

First aid tilted his head. "What have you been doing?"

Knock Out held out his concoction in a syringe. "Oh, making a little something."

"You made a cure or something?"

"Exactly," Knock Out said proudly. "And you get first dibs."

First Aid's visor furrowed. "No, other patients need it more than me, patients that have been sick longer. Have you even _seen_ Powerglide? He's literally falling apart at the seams!"

"And he'll get his in due time. Right now, I need my nurse back," Knock Out responded. "Now just give me your arm and you'll be up and moving in no time."

Aid still looked uncertain, but he knew there was no negotiating with Knock Out. He lifted his arm to Knock Out and the other doctor took it and injected the compound into the nurse's main Energon line.

"There," Knock Out breathed, careful not to let any concern escape his voice. "How are you feeling?"

Aid flexed his servo a bit. "A little warm." Then he corrected himself hastily. "Actually, a little hot."

Then First Aid began to shake. He shook uncontrollably.

"First Aid?" Knock Out gently put his hands on First aid's shoulders. "Talk to me First Aid. What's wrong?"

"I-it…" First Aid croaked. "It burn-s-ssssSSSAAAAAAAAAEEEEE!" he screamed. His wail woke up several patients as they all looked to see Knock Out helplessly standing over First Aid.

Then First Aid's servo turned to navy dust in his hands. The rest of the nurse's body was gone in a klik, and all that was left behind was blue sprinklings. The shriek died in an instant and the room was dead quiet as the last of Aid's echoing scream faded.

Knock Out beheld what was left of his nurse. On any other day, Knock Out would have taken pleasure in seeing a 'bot writhe in pain and scream as they died a slow, agonizing death. But Knock Out had meant to kill them and if innocents died in the process well, that was just the price to pay. But, something was so eerie about seeing a 'bot disintegrate into thin air right before his eyes. If it weren't for all the cerulean ash everywhere, it was as if First Aid had never even existed.

Snapping out of his daze, Knock Out slowly turned to see all of the optics on him. The half-empty syringe clattered to the floor. He found Ratchet approaching him, optics laden with disbelief. He took even steps past Knock Out and to Aid's remains. He turned to Knock Out so quickly that the Aston Martin didn't even see him move. He flinched a little at the next words the came out of Ratchet's mouth.

"What have you done?"

Knock Out opened and closed his mouth several times, but no explanation came out. Ratchet discovered the cracked syringe on the ground and carefully picked it up. Some of its contents dripped sluggishly from the cracks. "What is this?" Ratchet asked coldly, holding out the needle.

"I-it's a-a-a cure," Knock Out couldn't stop his vocalizer from skipping in an undignified manor. The only words he could squeeze out were just as juvenile. "I mad-d-de i-it."

The disbelief was still clear on Ratchet's face. He quietly sat the syringe on the now empty recharge slab. "You aren't welcome here anymore, Knock Out."

If all the stares Knock Out were receiving weren't burning his plating before, it was as if they had all stabbed him with hot irons. The other patients looked like they had been waiting for Ratchet to say that for ages.

Without a word, Knock Out turned and left. He felt everyone watch him go. When the door shut behind him he began to pick up his pace. He ran a clawed servo through his helm wings and moved into a steady jog. He didn't remember grabbing his staff and he almost didn't notice exiting the base and tearing off into the night.


	6. Chapter 6

The last of the scream that rattled through the medbay had woken Arcee and Smokescreen, who had dozed off in a couple of chairs by Bumblebee's recharge slab. Bee still lay asleep and undisturbed. Arcee and Smokescreen had woken just when the scream stopped. They exchanged a brief look before going to investigate. Farther away from the commotion, they wound through the maze of incapacitated 'bots. They heard a quiet quarrel, and even quieter benediction to said quarrel, and footsteps leaving the scene. When they finally arrived, Ratchet was trying in vain to calm the panicked patients down.

"You're letting him get away!" one cried.

"He's going to reduce us all into useless piles of scrap!" exclaimed another.

Smokescreen and Arcee got closer and Ratchet noticed them. "What happened?" Smokescreen called over the racket. That's when Arcee noticed the blue soot-covered slab. That was where First Aid had been. Arcee approached the table, careful to not touch the rust. This couldn't have been First Aid. He wasn't as bad as the others. There was no way he had gone so fast. Smokescreen appeared beside her, the asking same questions as she was. The syringe still lay cracked on the slab, dripping slightly. They put two and two together.

"This isn't that thing that Knock Out was working on, is it?" Smokescreen murmured. The smell of the chemicals he had seen Knock Out with was wafting into the dank medbay air.

"Yes, unfortunately it is," Ratchet said. "And he used First Aid as his test subject."

The two younger Autobots stared dumbfounded at the slab. "Poor kid…" Smokescreen muttered.

"Wait," Arcee interjected on the somewhat silence. "This doesn't make any sense. First Aid was Knock Out's friend, why would he do this to him?"

"Because First Aid got in the way," Ratchet snapped. "Haven't you ever met a Decepticon? 'Friends' don't matter when a greater goal is in their sights!"

"Knock Out has nowhere to go," Arcee returned with the same intensity. "why would he want to poison his last resort? No one is that idiotic!"

"This is Knock Out we're talking about, 'Cee," Smokescreen said and regretted it the instant he said it.

"I'm going find Knock Out," Arcee glowered, walking past Ratchet and to the exit. "None of this adds up and I want his side of the story."

"Arcee, wait up!" Smokescreen called after her as they both dashed outside.

Arcee and Smokescreen drove across the flat, dusty terrain for quite some time. There was no sign of Knock Out apart from barely visible tire tracks that the wind was beginning to erase.

"Knock Out wouldn't have meant to do that to Aid," Smokescreen said after minute 45 of their search. "Would he?"

Arcee had been heated during her conversation with Ratchet, but the more she thought about the situation, the more she began to question her stance on the matter.

"That's what were going to find out," she answered finally.

"Because maybe Ratchet was right. Once a Decepticon always a-…Arcee, look! I see him!"

"Where!?"

"There! Up ahead!"

Sure enough, the Aston Martin was barely in view about 200 yards away, driving at maximum.

Both the blue sports car and motorbike gunned their engines in pursuit.

"Knock Out!" Arcee shouted through her commlink. "We just want to talk!"

Knock Out didn't answer and certainly didn't slow down.

"We don't think what you did was on purpose," Arcee tried again. "We just need to clear things up!"

They caught up to him and were now about ten yards away. They almost sped past him as he transformed in mid drive, making a perfect backflip and stuck the landing, staff in hand. Arcee and Smokescreen skidded to a halt and took their robot modes as well. They held their servos out in front of them and Knock Out jutted his staff towards them.

"We aren't going to hurt you," Arcee said in a calm, slow voice. It felt like she was talking down a crazed maximal. "We just need you to explain what happened."

"You won't believe me," Knock Out snarled. "No one will i_ever_/i believe me! I've killed tons, what makes you think this will be any different!?"

"We all have," Arcee replied. "We were at war. But, the war is over now, and we idon't/i want to harm you." She emphasized again.

Knock Out began to pace uncoordinatedly like a 'bot on circuit speeders. His weapon was still gripped tightly in his hand while his other began scratching through his helm. He looked like he could barely hold in his anxiety, wound tight and couldn't stop trembling.

Arcee had never seen him like this. She couldn't have ever imagined him being the jittery wreck he was right now. Something definitely told Arcee that Knock Out hadn't meant to do what he did.

"This is wrong, this is wr-wr-wrong!" Knock Out blurted finally, vocalizer skipping again. "I put-t all the right things in, I let it sit for the correct time, I did every-ything! This wa-asn't supposed to happen! It didn't work! It didn't work…" He was already working a rut into the ground by dragging his stumbling peds.

Arcee dared to near him. "What didn't work, Knock Out?"

"Stay iback/i!" Knock Out swung his activated staff at her. Arcee reflexively unsheathed her arm blades and swatted the staff inches in front of her face. Knock Out took another jab at her and she brought her blades down so the staff's live end drug into the dust. Still with a death grip on the staff, Knock Out jerked it back out from under Arcee's arms, the end hitting the blades and momentarily pulling her forward. For the brief klik that Arcee was off balance, Knock Out brought his weapon above his head and pulled it down with all of his crazed strength. Arcee was just able to catch the staff on her blades again as it nearly struck her square in the head. Sparks spat from the two metal weapons grinding hard on each other, causing the familiar splitting shriek of steel against steel. This time, Arcee deliberately seized the protruding bit of metal near the head of the staff and yanked her arms over her helm. The staff flew out of Knock Out's servos and landed vertically in the ground just beside Smokescreen, who pulled it out and tossed it to Arcee. Arcee's final move was to hold the staff just below Knock Out's chin. Knock Out yielded, looking directly into Arcee's optics.

"Now," Arcee said smoothly. "I can help you, but you need to let me do my job."

Knock Out was still for a minute, but eventually gave her a quick nod, careful of the prod by his neck.

Arcee slowly brought the staff away from Knock Out and the Aston Martin's helm lulled down.

"First Aid wasn't supposed to die," he said clearly so both Arcee and Smokescreen could hear. "He was supposed to…be cured." He took a step back and plopped down on a scrap of ground jutting from the flat terrain. Wordlessly, he buried his face in his hands and sighed hopelessly.

Another emotion Arcee thought she would never see Knock Out express made itself known: shame. It was like something had been beating him up for ages and was just now surfacing.

"Why did you think you could cure him?" Smokescreen dared. "How would you know-"

"I just did, okay?" Knock Out retorted, his voice climbing pitch again. But, the prior aggression didn't arise with it. "Maybe I just thought 'hey, perhaps I could do something right for once? Maybe those ingrates back at the medbay would stop throwing slurs and spitting my way every time I entered the damned place!'"

Was Knock Out actually trying ihelpi/ people? Arcee wouldn't have believed it unless she was looking at the choked and overwrought 'bot himself like she was now. Even if it was for his own benefit, it was better than what he was known for. She wanted to say: "well, maybe if you hadn't spent 6 million years torturing mechs, people would have an inkling of faith left in you." But, this was clearly not the time, not when Knock Out was so vulnerable. Well, she wanted to say such things at a time like this, but she thought better of it.

"I'm not going back," Knock Out muttered. " I can't. So, if you came here to convince me to, you're out of luck."

"So what," Arcee replied. "You're just going to sit out here and mope?"

"Maybe," Knock Out folded his arms on his knees. "What else is there to do out here?"

"You can explain yourself," Arcee walked closer to him. "Smoke and I will back you up. Ultra Magnus will understand." No, actually, he probably wouldn't.

"And risk some capital punishment at the hands of the new 'Autobot leader'," Knock Out gestured the air quotes exaggeratedly. "I'd rather take my chances out here."

Even sitting down he still had a height advantage over Arcee.

It was fairly cold and Arcee loosely wrapped her arms around herself. "Well, if you want to freeze to death, I'm not going to stand here and argue with you. C'mon, Smokescreen, were going home."

Smokescreen joined her as they transformed and prepared to head home. As they drove off, Arcee tilted her rear view mirrors to see Knock Out curl in on himself as another bout of wind picked up. It was like watching a stubborn sparkling who didn't was being impossible for the sake of being impossible.

He disappeared out of her sight. She made a mental note to bring him some Energon rations in the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

Arcee was summoned to the main control hub along with the rest of the still-active Autobots. Looking around, she couldn't help but notice those who weren't present. Bulkhead and Blaster had been admitted to the ever-crowding medbay recently, and Prowl before them. Ironhide and Wheeljack seemed to be on their way out, too.

Standing in Blaster's seat by the computer console, Rewind held a data pad in his arms. Eject sat on the edge of the chair while Steeljaw lay quietly at the foot of the chair.

"Make it quick, Rewind," Ratchet grunted as he walked to stand beside Arcee. "I'm not exactly full of free time here."

Rewind nodded. "Then you'll be happy to hear that Eject and I picked up where Blaster left off," He held the data up proudly. "And we may have found something about Perceptor's whereabouts!"

A tangible wave a relief swept across the room until it turned into anticipation for the next answer. "Where?"

"The last time anyone contacted him he was somewhere between CaldoonIV and Quartex. That was over 5,000 stellarcycles ago."

"That's unclaimed territory," Smokscreen replied. "No wonder we couldn't locate him when he was that far away."

"But, what if he's left by now?" Ultra Magnus said, not looking convinced. "He could be light years away from there."

"Maybe, but It's all we've got to go on, coach," Eject shrugged.

Magnus took the data pad from Rewind and examined it. The little red dot marking Perceptor's possible location sat almost directly between the two planets Rewind had read. "This still doesn't explain why he disconnected his hailing frequency," he handed the data pad back.

"Then someone should go and find out why," Arcee interjected. "If we have anything on Perceptor, especially now, we should investigate."

She turned to Magnus. "Sir, with your permission, I'd like to try and find him."

Magnus towered over Arcee, but his intense gaze was met with Arcee's equally intense one. "No, it's too dangerous a trip for just one person."

"I'll go with her!" Smokescreen piped up.

Magnus looked at both of them, his expression unwavering. But, as he became more aware of just how few were left of his group dubbed "Team Prime", he realized that his options were severely numbered. The two young 'bots before him became better candidates to go the more he thought.

"Alright," he finally said. "But, I want you to find at least one more to go with you."

Arcee smiled. "I think I know just who to bring."

Knock Out woke up restlessly. He hadn't been actually asleep and was more in a half-awake state. He had drifted off sitting on the same bit of scrap he had been earlier. He felt a little better as the sun elevated the bitter chill of last night.

He felt like this was new low for someone like him: out in the cold and growing tired of his own pity party. He should have at least taken a couple Energon cubes before he took of. They would have served him better than his stupid staff.

_iWelp, this is what happens when you try and join the winning side,i/ _he thought to himself; what a great idea that had been.

Well, considering that he would probably be long dead by now if he stayed with Starscream, this was sort of a better alternative. At least it took longer for the Autobots to kick him out than he had anticipated. Autobots, such trusting saps they were. Even the slightest hint of suspicion would get you a one-way ticket out of the Decepticon ranks.

He took another look around and suddenly had a realization: he didn't have a boss 'bot to follow. Yeah, he didn't have to worry about anyone else anymore. He could go wherever he wanted, especially with how empty Cybertron was now. Why was he sitting around here? He transformed and excitedly drove across the terrain, leaving clouds of sand in his wake. He didn't need the Autobots or Decepticons! It was just him and the open road!

His drive came to a screeching halt when he had to make a hard right turn to avoid the giant gaping hole just feet ahead.

The Well of Allsparks.

He sat there in vehicle mode, trying to forget that he nearly plummeted to his end down an endless pit of death. It felt like everything he had just told himself about flying solo suddenly lost its luster.

He remembered standing at this spot when Optimus Prime dove into the Well, ending his life for the rest of Cybertron. He didn't want to think about it, but he did anyway. He also didn't want to wonder if Prime would have welcomed him back despite First Aid's demise. Prime had no objections to seeing Knock Out standing with the rest before he sacrificed his life. Then again, it was kind of hard to read any emotion on that 'bot. Prime was cryptic that way, he supposed.

i_Each of you have acted as a Prime._ /i

Knock Out remembered how odd that had struck him when he had first heard it. What had he done other than whacking Starscream across the head and breaking The Immobilizer? Maybe the old 'bot was just feeling sentimental because he knew he was about to be axed off?

Knock Out hadn't done anything to warrant the Prime's approval. Not then and not now. This fact, for whatever reason, sucked all the fun out of being alone.

He certainly didn't want to wonder if Breakdown had made it to the Well, but he couldn't help it. Breakdown was the absolute last person he wanted to think about when he was all alone like this.

He wished he had brought something to eat.

Knock Out sat there in vehicle mode for a couple more minutes, trying to forget about food when he heard the sound of an engine in the distance. Her made a hasty three point turn to face the oncoming 'bot, prepared to retreat, when he recognized the blue dot rolling towards him. Oh, it was just her.

As Arcee neared him, he noticed there were two crates of Energon strung to the seat of her vehicle mode. She eventually braked, swinging her back wheel out to make a complete stop, kicking a good amount if sand up at Knock Out in the process.

Knock Out transformed and brushed himself of indignantly. "Don't you know how hard it is to get sand out of my seams?" He grumbled.

"Shut up and help me get this off," Arcee retorted, gesturing to the crates with her mirrors.

"Didn't think you were one for picnics," Knock Out sneered.

" Yeah well, I'm not one for going out of my way to make sure you don't die of starvation out here, either. But, here I am."

"Oh, aren't you sweet."

Arcee's engine huffed. "Just take them."

"Alright, alright." Knock Out reached awkwardly around Arcee to carefully unlatch the bungie cords holding the crates up and set the Energon on the ground, allowing Arcee to take her robot mode. She stretched a little. "I figured you'd moved on, but I didn't think you'd be here."

"I almost did a swan dive into this hole," Knock Out quipped. "Mags should really put a sign here or something."

Arcee chuckled a little. "I'll make sure to get on that."

Knock Out lifted the cubes off the ground. "Well…thanks for these."

"You're welcome," Arcee replied, sincerely this time.

The Aston Martin turned towards the Well, expecting Arcee to leave. But, she didn't. She just stood there, and Knock Out could feel her optics boring into his shoulders.

"Don't you have a team to get back to?" He asked, not turning to her.

"You can't live out here forever," Arcee replied. "At least I'm not going to keep bringing you Energon forever."

"I've already told you why I can't go back there." Knock Out set down the crates at the edge of the Well. "Besides, I like it out here! Now I need to only look out for number one."

"But, Knock Out-"

"Don't 'but Knock Out' me! I-"

"We found Perceptor."

Knock Out lost track of what he was in the middle of saying. "You did, did you?"

"Well, we may have," Arcee corrected herself. "Blaster's mini-cassettes followed up on his efforts and they found his possible location."

"Oh," Knock Out replied awkwardly. "Well, good for you."

"Smokescreen and I are leaving later today to find him," Arcee went on. "And…we need a third."

Knock Out sagged a little in exaggerated annoyance. "How many times do I have to drive it into your thick helm that I'm inot/i helping you ingrates anymore?"

"We need you Knock Out," Arcee said, mentally kicking her self for how desperate that sounded.

"That's not imy/i problem!" Knock Out took a few steps towards her.

"This is a great opportunity to clear your name!" Arcee shot back. " You're telling me you'd rather be out here, cold and alone? I'm giving you the chance to die out in the wilderness!"

"And what makes you think anything will change?" Knock Out stood over her, which wasn't very hard. "Do you honestly think that if I go on this road trip with you and that greenhorn Smokescreen and everything will just go away like it never happened? Fat chance!"

"Well, that iwill/i be the case if you do absolutely nothing!" Arcee spat, then backed our from Knock Out's shadow. "But hey, if you like it out here so much, why don't you just stay here and die a slower death than everyone else!"

Arcee reassembled into vehicle mode. "I actually tried to help you twice now. But, I guess you're pretty set on being a pain in the aft." She raced off.

"Fine!" Knock Out called after her, beyond frustrated. "See if I care!" He didn't wait for her to disappear as he turned back to the Well. Angrily, he sat on the crates of Energon. He had just lost his appetite.

"I don't need them," he said out loud to himself. "I'm just fine without them."

The yawning abyss of the Well was just a yard in front of his peds. Miles below, he could just catch the softest idle glow from the depths. It felt like it was staring at him. He felt the overbearing loneliness creep back to him, but he shook his head to push it away. Something that sat uncomfortably in his tanks told him to go back after Arcee.

Eh, it was probably because he hadn't eaten.

Arcee wasn't driving inherently fast. She just coasted along as if the previous outburst had never happened. She continued her drive until she heard a louder engine approach. Knock Out made a begrudging attempt to catch up to her.

"I must be out of my Energon-deprived mind," he grumbled. Arcee tried not to laugh. She couldn't believe that had actually worked.


	8. Chapter 8

Knock Out couldn't shake the sinking feeling of dread as he neared Iacon's partially reconstructed ruins. He lagged slightly behind Arcee, hoping it would drag out his return just a little. Lucky for him, Arcee was taking a few detours to make sure he was seen as little as possible. His anxiety only got worse as they made their way into the center of Iacon and up to the central hub. When they finally stood at the door to the hub Knock Out was still a few inches behind Arcee, as if the smaller femme could physically shield him from whatever was to come. Breakdown was exceptionally good at that kind of thing.

The door slid open, and Knock Out instantly felt optics searing his plating again. It didn't help that his finish wasn't it's best on top of it all. Ratchet wasn't present, but Ultra Magnus was. There was no surprise in the leader's expression, only distrust. Arcee must have told him about Knock Out's visit, and he was quite visibly displeased. No one else said anything, and that just made it worse for Knock Out. The distain in the air was so think he could slice it with his buzz saw.

Arcee waltzed straight up to Magnus, looking directly into his stern gaze. "He agreed."

Magnus made a stiff nod at her, their bravados equally matched. "So he did."

He looked up at Knock Out and jerked his head to the left, silently ordering him to approach. Knock out realized that his frame had been knotted submissively, which was embarrassing. He forced himself to straighten and strolled towards Magnus. He dared not even blink as Magnus leaned down towards him.

"Cybertron is counting on you," Magnus growled, voice as antagonizing as his glare.

"Best not keep them waiting, then," Knock Out replied in his natural snide tone. He had stared down Starscream on multiple occasions, and this was no different.

Magnus glowered at him still. "You two should get moving."

Arcee walked passed them. "Smokescreen's waiting for us."

Knock out followed her away and finally became aware of how hard his spark was pounding.

They arrived at the Central Iacon Spaceport. Knock Out had seen this place before. Who hadn't? It was only one of Cybertron's most active spaceports, or least it had been. Now it was very empty and dilapidated. The main lounge was a tall, domed, octagonal structure that, even in its run down state, was still sight to behold. Balconies from each floor loomed, supported by beams as tall as the dome. Knock Out counted 14 floors, not counting the ones that had collapsed with age and war. At each corner of the octagon, there were elegant strands of metal bent into a corkscrew shape. Each mirrored one larger version in the very center. The glass dome itself had still retained some of its colored, meticulously crafted windows.

"Our shuttle's at Hangar 2," Arcee called back to Knock Out, her voice reverberating all throughout the dome as if there were ten of her. They continued on and the ceiling became significantly lower and drabber. It contrasted with the previous room so drastically that Knock Out had to remember that they were in the same building. The hangar was so dark that the two of them flipped their headlights on, only to be met with stale dust in the air. They saw natural light again from the hangar's opening, the light silhouetting their shuttle ahead. They braked and continued on foot. Knock Out still had the crates of Energon Arcee had given him and he had one under each arm. What else was he supposed to do with them?

Knock Out looked their means of transportation up and down. It wasn't exactly the most dignified vessel, but it looked sturdy enough. It was small, a single-pilot, with a boxed shaped hull and two flat wings. Its simplicity showed its age, which was probably around 100 stellarcycles if Knock Out had to guess.

Smokescreen was leaning against the shuttle, waiting for them. He regarded Knock Out with an impish grin. "I can't believe you got him to go," he chuckled.

"Turns out all I had to do was say please," Arcee replied, turning to the Aston Martin. "Along with some peace offerings." Her eyes traveled to the crates Knock Out was holding. "Good thing you brought those, too. Those were two out of our four rations for the trip."

Knock Out glanced at his crates and back at Arcee. She was smiling that same smile Smokescreen had. Knock Out shot them both an indignant glance and trudged towards the ship to deposit his apparent bait into the cargo hold. He approached the hold when he nearly tripped over something about the same height as his knee. Steadying himself and the crates, he looked down to see Rewind picking himself up off the ground. Oh great, one of Blaster's brats. Rewind didn't look too thrilled to see Knock Out either, giving him a stiff nod before walking around him. After dropping off the crates, he rounded the ship again to see Arcee looking quizzically down at Rewind.

"Oh, I forgot to say," Smokescreen hastily added. "Rewind wants to come, too."

"For Blaster's sake, I want to help any way I can," Rewind said, tapping his head-mounted camera. "And the first sighting of Perceptor in ages is something that needs to me archived."

"I brought an extra round of rations for him," Smokescreen added again. "Besides, it's not like he'll take up a lot of space."

Arcee looked at them both and shrugged. I guess I don't see the harm in it."

Knock Out's shoulders dropped. Just what he needed, ianother/i Autobot on his road trip. Joy.

Arcee waved a servo to the ship. "Well, let's not waist any time. We don't exactly have a lot of it."

"Shot gun!" Smokescreen chirped.

Knock Out was the last to board the rather cramped cabin as Arcee started the old shuttle. It sputtered to a shaky start and creaked as it hovered off the ground and pushed itself forward off the hangar and into the afternoon sky.

Knock Out watched the ground grow farther and farther away and eventually watched the atmosphere dissipate into a star-cluttered scenery. He leaned his forehead against the window. What was he getting into?


	9. Chapter 9

The inside of the shuttle was about as disappointing as the outside: square, old, and small. It had a cockpit, two cabins, and a cargo hold; that was it. The second cabin had a couple recharge slabs, but was otherwise empty. The main cabin was the only section with windows, and even then the only window that really counted as a window was the windshield.

The three bots whom were tall enough to reach the steering apparatus took shifts driving. They had been traveling for a decent amount of hours and Knock Out had recently finished his. He had since moved to sit in the passenger seat and Arcee had taken the next shift. Knock Out went back to his previous activity of idly starring out the window, watching familiar systems pass by. He half-listened to Rewind and Smokescreen's conversation from behind him. He wasn't interested in figuring out the subject, though, and felt himself loosing consciousness out of pure boredom. Trying not to yawn to loudly, he tried to ignore the uncomfortable form of his seat (it was better than sleeping outside, at least) and slowly fell asleep.

i The world around Knock Out was bleary, and his limbs weighed twice their normal mass, rooting him to the spot. So he stayed put, tying to focus on what was ahead of him. The blue splotch he saw was a hulking, familiar shape and something warm and happy stirred in Knock Out's chassis. He tried to call out to the bot, but his tongue was under the same curse as the rest of him. He didn't have to speak, however. The mech turned and approached him at a even pace. Knock Out still couldn't move, but that was suddenly okay with him. The figure moved closer, coming more and more into focus until only their face was intelligible. Their arms stretched towards Knock Out and he happily waited to be scooped up by his well-missed companion.

But, the servos in front of him suddenly closed around his arms, making ten deep dents into the metal. Knock Out was jerked towards the bot, their face still blurry. He still couldn't move, and his head was too heavy to turn away. Still, he tried to focus on the figure's optics. At first there was only one, yellow optic glowing harshly amongst the burr. Then, it became a cyan half-rectangle. As it began to change again, the figure's servos flew up to grasp Knock out's shoulders, gripping them like they were going to tear them off. The servos were broken and torn, their jagged ends scraping painfully at the vermillion paint.

The wretched thing spoke, but not with one voice. It spoke with two very different, very familiar, voices. One was filled with rage, the other soft and pleading. The words that came from its mouth were choppy with thick static:

"-ou i-id -s."/i

Knock Out was rudely awakened as his frame jerked, hitting his head against the hull. He shook off the uneasy feelings of his reverie. Geez, it felt like he had fallen.

Actually, it felt like he was still falling.

His surroundings became clearer when he felt the shuttle make a nauseating dip and bob. He twisted his body around his seat to see Smokescreen and Rewind braced to theirs. The shuttle veered to the left and then dragged to the right. It was as if the ship was being jerked like a marionette on uneven strings. Knock Out almost made a humorous snort. He wouldn't have guessed Arcee was ithat/i bad of a flier.

He glanced Arcee's way to see her fighting to keep control of the wheel. She noticed him staring at her and shot him an irritated and high-strung glare. "I told you to hold onto something!" she grunted, wrestling the ship out of its near-capsized position. Knock Out blinked out of his daze as he realized what was happening. The way the shuttle insisted on twisting to the left gave the indication that their right wing had been damaged. Badly.

"What did you ido/i?" Was the first thing Knock Out could think to blurt out.

"Something hit us!" Smokescreen replied over the blaring proximity alarm. They were rapidly approaching a lone mass of rock ahead.

"What 'something'?" Knock Out switched sides on his seat to see out the opposite side of the windshield. He couldn't make out the damage, but he could definitely see smoke.

"A big 'something'!" Rewind said, trying to not be thrown out of his seat by his miniscule weight.

"iObviously,/i" Knock Out retorted before the ship jerked again and slammed his head against the hull a second time.

"Let's talk about this when we're on that ground, maybe?" Arcee barked and yanked the ship into momentary stability again. The rocky form continued to rise to meet them.

"You're landing on that!?" Knock Out protested, gripping the dashboard in front of him.

"Do you see anywhere else to land!?" the ship spun in the wrong direction and Arcee pulled at it.

Knock Out's pointed servos dug into the dash. "Do you even know where we are? Or what that is?"

Arcee didn't reply and focused on landing. Knock Out watched in apparent horror for a few more seconds before lunging forward in an attempt to take the wheel.

"Hey!" Arcee shouted and tried to elbow him away, but Knock Out still reached to turn the shuttle away. "Are you trying to kill us!?"

"Are iyou/i trying to kill us!?" Knock Out cried exasperatedly, making another grab for the wheel. The meteor-like surface was only feet below them and Arcee tried to keep the ship straight just long enough to make a decent landing. Knock Out swiped at her one last time before Arcee pulled her ped from under the dash and kicked him into the other side of the cockpit.

"Listen to me!" Knock Out shouted, his voice stooping to pleading. "You see a patch of discolored gravel on that meteor, right?"

"Uh, yeah?" Arcee replied unsurely.

"Land there! Land there if you're still interested in finding Perceptor!"

Arcee forced the wheel to stay in one place as they dropped towards the smear of tan gravel amongst the grey. The shuttle made an unsteady landing on the rock, grinding into the rough terrain. It came to rest on its side, supported by the still-intact wing.

Arcee propped herself up on one arm and worked her way into a somewhat comfortable temporary spot. "Everyone okay?"

Rewind had lost his hold on his seat's armrest and was crumpled belly-up between the hull and the seat. "I'm good." he raised one of his legs that were still on the seat.

Smokescreen was still halfway in his seat, holding himself up against Rewind's armrest. "Fine."

Knock Out was in an upside down pose against the wall, head on the seat and legs over his head. "Ow."

"Okay." Arcee stepped over the center console to reach back and help Rewind up. "We'd better go see what happened to the wing."

"Wait!" Knock Out tumbled out of his upturned tangle. "You may not know where we are, but I do."

"Your point being?" Rewind replied.

"My point is that we need to stay here," Knock Out shot a sidelong glare at Rewind, who was happy to reciprocate. "Whatever happened to our wing was no accident."

"Nothing else is out here," Arcee extended a hand to help Knock Out to his feet, but he refused. "Nothing but the rock we're on."

"And if we step out onto this rock, we die!" Knock Out stood up.

"What's out there to kill us?" Smokescreen asked, scrutinizing the outside for any sign of danger. "Pebbles?"

"You can't see them," Knock Out joined him in watching the window. "But, they're here. I know it."

"You're saying they're invisible?" Rewind's voice was low with confusion. Knock Out caught onto how silly he was sounding.

"To an extent, yes."

Rewind's visor ridges scrunched. "How long were you out in the desert?"

Knock Out scowled down at the mini-cassette. "How long have you been a nosy pipsqueak-?"

"Enough," Arcee interrupted, pushing past them. "We're not any closer to Perceptor and we need that wing fixed." She headed to the exit when Knock Out suddenly grabbed her shoulder. When she rounded on him, he removed his servo like she had set it on fire.

"You cannot go out there," Knock Out said evenly. "…I need to go."

Arcee cocked her head. "You? Why would you have a better chance?"

Knock Out opened his mouth and closed it a few times before finding the right answer. "You're just going to have to trust me."

Arcee stared at him and sighed. "I've had to do that a lot lately, haven't I?"

Knock Out came to stand on the edge of the ship's exit. He turned to the bots watching him. "Listen. When I leave this gravel, don't follow me. No matter what you see, stay put."

After getting a confirming nod from each Autobot, Knock Out slowly turned away and took a slow step towards the grey gravel. When his ped met ground, it disappeared. He looked back at his fellows. He couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the disbelief and befuddlement on their faces. Taking a deep breath, he walked himself into the void and completely vanished.


	10. Chapter 10

Knock Out had been lucky to set foot on actual ground. The environment before him was cluttered with obsolete trinkets and spare parts. He stepped carefully around the minefield of junk, knowing full well that the owner had an obtuse organizing system. He didn't want to repeat the events of the last time he accidentally tripped over a stray piston.

"Hey, anyone he-" he ducked under a broken metal beam just below his chin. "Anyone here?"

He heard light skittering from somewhere amongst the scrap. He continued with even more caution. "Hello?"

"BAH!" a small, spindly mech dropped from the ceiling mere centimeters from Knock Out's face. Knock Out drew back and yelped as one of its legs almost made a good slit in his cheek.

The insect-like bot burst into wheezing, harsh laughter that sounded more like coughing. It rocked back and forth on the suspended object he was hanging from. "Knock Out, _mein rot Freund_! You fall for that every time!"

Knock Out steadied himself from nearly falling into a pile of tiny, extremely sharp-looking bits of metal. "I see you're just as fluent in people skills as ever, Scalpel."

Scalpel hacked another fit of laughter and dropped to the floor. Barely scraping the ground he found a small desk in the center of the mess and waited for Knock Out to catch up. "Business looks good."

"Ever since the Autobots called everyone back, we've been swamped with customers! The boys have been working double time just for one day's haul!"

"Yeah, I saw," Knock Out came to stand in a tiny patch of floor in front of the desk. "In fact, I've witnessed it first hand."

"Wait…that was you we caught?" Scalpel stabbed the desk with one leg and laughed. "What did you do? Fall asleep at the wheel?"

"Something like that," Knock Out shrugged. "Anyhow, your goons took out my right wing, which means you owe me some repairs."

"Perhaps you should be careful where you fly," Scalpel wheezed. "But for you, I give discount, yeah? How's 800 shanix?"

Knock Out leaned on the counter. "Always the generous one you are."

Scalpel skittered across the desk and snatched the shanix out of Knock Out's servos as soon as the Aston Martin presented them. "Oh, come on. This isn't the worst I've charged for you," Scalpel stuffed the shanix into a divot in the counter. "If your counterpart, Breakdown, were here I would have had to charge you for all the stuff he would have broken." Scalpel craned his body to see around Knock Out. "Say, where is that blue _Hornochse_?"

"He died," Knock Out said, dismissively. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Oh?" Scalpel muttered, scurrying past Knock Out to another pile. "_So eine Schande._ Have you found a new one, yet?"

"No, I've actually been flying solo these past cycles."

"Knock Out? A lone turbowolf? Now I've heard everything," Scalpel stamped the shanix farther into the desk. "Now, what can I get you?"

Scalpel's cohorts were larger than him, but were equally disturbing to look upon. They had numerous limbs, each equipped with something sharp, jagged, mangled, or any combination of the three. But, if Knock Out knew anything about them, they were amazingly skilled in small-scale repairs. He also wasn't surprised to find that Scalpel had the exact type of wing bits for the shuttle. He had been in business a long time.

Knock Out followed the ornery bots out of the void to the shuttle. He waited for them to pass, then ducked to the other side of the ship. "Arcee?" he whispered to his commlink. "Please tell me you all haven't moved."

"We're still here," Arcee's voice crackled through the comm. "And, whatever trick you just pulled, we want answers."

"Be patient," Knock Out hissed. "And stay down. You aren't among friends here."

"What is it?" Arcee's voice was hushed. "Are you alright out th-"

"_Mein rot Freund!"_ Scalpel's nails-on-glass voice rang from behind him. Knock Out whipped around to face him. The bot of knives was perched on the shoulder of a larger, though less sharp, mech. "You remember Chop Shop, don't you?"

Chop Shop eyed Knock Out with a glare to rival the likes of Ultra Magnus; he even had two ridiculous audial-mounts to boot. Other miss-matched items stuck out from every inch of hi body, obviously stolen from other bots.

"You've had a few 'upgrades' since I last saw you," Knock Out scoffed. "Can't even be bothered to paint them, eh?"

Chop Shop growled, "Scalpel's been tellin' me about ol' Breakdown, which means he won't be here to fix your paint after I peel it offa ya."

"Temper, temper, Chop," Scalpel sang. "We don't threaten customers."

"He already paid," Chop Shop grumbled.

"Yes, but he's our guest," Scalpel made a nimble jump to Knock Out's shoulder, somehow managing to not scrape him. "And threats of mutilation won't fix his craft. So I suggest you be on your way and let us talk."

Chop Shop shot Knock Out one final death glare before lumbering off.

"So," Scalpel skittered down Knock Out's arm and Knock Out held out his hand for the small bot to stand on. "Tell me about serving on _the Nemesis_. I trust Megatron treated you well."

Knock Out shrugged. "Earth was fine. It would have been better without those fleshy…things running around."

"Fleshy things?" Scalpel's optics brightened. "Ooh, did you bring any with you? I've never had the chance to dissect a…what do you call them?"

"Their media suggests they go by 'earthlings'," Knock Out replied. "It's catchy but to proud a name for their squishy, bony structure. And no, I neglected to bottle up any."

"Too bad," Scalpel scratched a many-toothed leg across the adjacent leg. "You make them sound boring anyway."

Scalpel was about to go on when one of his drones appeared from the port side of the ship. "Hey, boss. You might wanna see this."

Scalpel wheezed a huff. "This had better be important. For your sake." He waved a little to Knock Out. _"Mit Verlaub."_

_"Das geht klar," _Knock Out replied, but followed Scalpel around the ship anyway.

Wait, he was forgetting something…

When they arrived at the port side, the other drones and Chop Shop were standing around a large Autobot symbol emblazoned on the side.

Oh, right.

"You wanna explain this, big shoulders?" Chop Shop snarled, trudging over to loom dangerously above Knock Out. Knock Out leaned away in response. Setting aside the many pilfered weapons he was decorated with, Chop Shop smelled pretty awful.

"Uh…" Knock Out cleared his vocalizer and tried again. "Well, if you must know…" This was going to be a stretch. "I took it."

"You took it," Chop Shop echoed flatly. "You stole an Autobot ship. By yourself."

Knock Out nodded curtly. "Surprised?"

Chop Shop's eyes narrowed. He wasn't buying it.

"Quite surprised!" Scalpel chirped, appearing on Chop Shop's shoulder. "See, Chop Shop? Our _rot Freund _isn't as helpless on his own as you think." He scraped two legs together. "Well done!"

"Oh, it wasn't much of a chore," Knock Out chuckled. "Most of Cybertron is bedridden. I was gone before they even had the strength to notice."

"Bedridden, you say?" Scalpel wheezed. "All of Cybertron?"

"The few that are there are piled up in heaps," Knock Out sneered, but something else flickered across his faceplates. "And it's spreading fast."

"Marvelous!" Scalpel hacked. "You have to tell me more, but I must speak with dear Chop Shop for a minute."

"I can wait," Knock Out responded and Chop Shop turned away. As they left, Scalpel leaned to Chop Shop's audial. "Search the ship."

Chop Shop nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that." The miss-matched mech waved a few drones over and Scalpel bounced back to Knock Out.

"What is taking him so long?" Smokescreen muttered. He, Rewind, and Arcee were sitting on the cabin's floor. "My legs are falling asleep."

"Are you sure he knows what he's doing?" Rewind asked Arcee, visibly skeptical.

Arcee sighed. "No, not really. But, he knew about the crazy invisible wall. He must be doing something right."

"But, what if he's handing us over to those… those pointy guys out there? He seems like pretty good friends with them," Rewind retorted.

Arcee attempted to reply, but shut her mouth and thought about what Rewind was saying.

"If that's what Knock Out's gonna do, why hasn't he done it by now?" Smokescreen asked. "He's been out there for a while. It doesn't take long to say: 'hey, I've got three Autobots hiding in my ship! Come and get 'em!'"

Rewind was about to reply when he heard the shuttle's door slide open. They all fell quiet. The footsteps they heard were too heavy to be Knock Out's.

"I knew it," Rewind said almost inaudibly. Arcee waved her hand o shush him and bared her hand blasters. Smokescreen readied his weapons as well. Arcee tiptoed to the cabin entrance and pressed her back to the wall. Smokescreen backed into the cockpit, Rewind behind him.

The footsteps came closer, followed by more, smaller steps. Arcee peaked around the doorway and just barely met two sickly yellow optics. She shrunk back, stayed still for another second, and then sprung around the doorway, her blaster aimed between Chop Shop's optics.

"So, is it true?" Scalpel's large, spectacled eyes grew. "Cybertron is nearly defenseless?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Knock Out shrugged. "But, a good deal of them are confined to the medbay indefinitely."

"Are they looking...bluer than usual?" Scalpel's voice was filled with excitement.

Knock Out tried not to make eye contact with the scraggly thing. "Now that you mention it, they do."

"Ha-ha!" Scalpel leapt into the air. "Wonderful! It's all going just as I planned!"

Knock Out tilted his helm. "Planned?"

"Yes! I-" Scalpel was interrupted again when a flurry of gunfire erupted from the stern side of the shuttle. "Oh, what is it now?" Scalpel grumbled, bounding towards the commotion. Knock Out was close behind. As they went, Knock Out caught eye of the wing. It looked better than before. It had better be good enough to get them off the ground. A swift retreat was in their near future.

A drone was flung out of the shuttle, followed by a few more. Knock Out stood back as he saw Arcee and Smokescreen driving the rest of the search party backward. Arcee had switched form her blaster to her blades and was locked into combat with two drones, each taking swings at her with their assorted sharp bits. Smokescreen, only armed with blasters, alternated between shooting and whacking drones. Knock Out noticed Scalpel watching the tussle. He almost cringed when the tiny mangle of blades turned to him. "_Freunds _of yours?" he asked, his voice strangely casual.

"You searched my ship?" was all Knock Out could think to reply.

"Oh please," Scalpel coughed. "Did you really expect me to believe you stole an Autobot ship on your own? You wouldn't risk scuffing your finish even if it meant saving your life." He turned back to the gunfight. "Or, should I say 'your partner's life'?"

Scalpel didn't have too much time to enjoy his retort before he was crushed by Knock Out's ped. Knock Out headed towards the drones, buzz saw revving. He breezed by a few drones in his way, hacking at them agilely. But, he wasn't as interested in dismembering them as he was trying to escape. These weren't Scalpel's only henchmen and they would be swarmed before long.

Arcee saw Knock Out charging to them, ducking, weaving, and slicing through drones. Their optics locked briefly as they lessened the amount of drones between them. Finally, they were in front of each other and the drones were backed far enough out to allow the door to retract. Scraping and slicing could be heard against the hull.

Knock Out suddenly tripped over something in the dark of the shuttle. It had faulty interior lighting, after all. Whatever he had tripped on was large and odd ended. Knock Out frantically searched the floor, dreading what, or who, he would find. He shouted when he realized that Chop Shop was sprawled on the floor. The large bot wasn't moving. In fact, Knock Out could smell residual plasma in the dank air. Oh, no. _Oooooh, no_.

"Arcee," Knock Out squeaked.

"Not the time!" Arcee called back, hurriedly starting the ship.

"Arcee!" Knock Out shouted again. "Do you know who's lying offline I our ship!?"

There was no answer as the ship teetered off the ground. It still leaned on the broken wing's side, but it wasn't as bad as before. Knock Out scrambled to the cabin. "We're dead, we're dead. Oh, we are so dead!"

The shuttle took off shakily. Knock Out's claws dug into the back of Arcee's seat. The shuttle flew for a solid minute without any interruption, which wound Knock Out even tighter.

A flurry of shots whizzed past them. Ah, there they were.

The dip and bobbing started again as they tried to outrun the smaller shuttles on their tail.

"Keep going for about 20 more minutes," Knock Out said suddenly.

"What?" Arcee shouted, stiff with alert.

"Their ships are ranged. They can't give chaise for long," Knock Out explained. "Just keep going!"

"That was the plan before!" Arcee answered before pushing the wheel even more towards the windshield.

One shuttle creeped up along side them. Rewind ducked from the window. "Guys, they're getting clos-ack!" Rewind was cut off when something snatched him right out of his seat.

"Rewind!" Smokescreen yelped, grabbing for the minibot, but grasped air. A large servo then closed tightly around Smokescreen's throat, yanking him out of the chair. Both mechs were brought to face a ragged and livid Chop Shop, bleeding profusely from the forehead. "Which one-a you landed plasma in my face?"

Knock Out and Arcee looked back to see Chop Shop dragging himself towards them. Smokescreen gasped and tried to pry at the mech's digits. Chop Shop held Rewind by the head, squeezing. Arcee lept out of the driver's seat, shoving Knock Out into her place. "Drive!" She ordered. Knock Out gathered himself and continued the shuttle's beeline.

Arcee wasted no time taking aim. Chop Shop tightened his grip on the bots he held. "Shoot," he slurred, dizzy with loss of Energon. "And the li'll guy looses his head."

Smokescreen's blasters hand unsheathed upon reflex and he directed his left one to Chop Shop abdomen. He fired and Chop Shop cried out, dropping both him and Rewind. Arcee lunged forward and pushed Chop Shop back on his wobbly peds. Chop Shop could barely keep his head up as he received blows from the smaller femme. She worked him towards the door.

"Knock Out!" Arcee shouted. "Open the door!"

Knock Out's adrenaline-seized servos mashed the door release button. Smokescreen grabbed Rewind's frame and Arcee's ankle as the door opened and became a violent vacuum. Chop Shop was wrenched out of the ship and Knock Out quickly shut the door. Arcee, Smokescreen, and Rewind collapsed as the air became normal. They passed Scalpel's drone's range. The shuttle still went at full speed for quite some time until Knock Out was sure they were in the clear. He let the shuttle cruise on its own and went to where the others were still crashed. All four bots were still venting hard, to dazed to say anything.

Arcee had pulled herself up to a sitting position and was cradling her head in one hand. Smokescreen uncurled around Rewind and released his death grip on Arcee's leg. The three Autobots exchanged looks of relief to one another.

Knock Out caught his breath. "We're safe. They won't reach us from here."

Arcee nodded loosely. "Good," she breathed. She tried to pull herself up, but her legs hadn't recovered. Before he thought better of it, Knock Out extended a hand to her. Arcee looked at it for a second, then took it. Knock Out pulled her up and helped Smokescreen, who in turn set Rewind right side up. They slumped back into their seats, Knock Out resuming his place at the wheel. Arcee sunk into the passenger seat, letting something like a hysterical laugh escape her vocalizer.

"You alright?" Knock Out ventured. Arcee nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just great."

Knock Out stifled a chuckle, though he wasn't in much of a better state than her. Arcee lulled in and out of consciousness. Rewind and Smokescreen appeared to be on their way out, too.

"Knock Out?" Arcee murmured.

"Yes?"

"Who where those guys?" she asked. Knock Out searched for an answer.

"Just…just some guys I used to know."

"Oh," Arcee replied and went quiet. Knock Out was beginning to think she had fallen asleep when she spoke again, quieter.

"Thank you."

Knock Out gave her a surprised glance, but her head was turned away from him. He cleared hid throat. "You're welcome."

He turned his eyes back to the space ahead, taking in the peace that had descended upon the cabin. He smiled a little, leaning back in his chair. But, just as he was almost relaxed, a thought crossed his mind.

Just as he's planned?


	11. Chapter 11

Ratchet pushed open the clinic's back entrance and stepped outside. He fully-extended the door to try and let in fresh air. The air inside had grown so stagnant and still that it was only making the epidemic inside worse.

Ratchet filled his vents with clean atmosphere and caught himself on the door. He hadn't slept at all, but he would be damned if he let himself become less efficient due to fatigue. He leaned a little on the door. _Just a quick rest, _he thought.

Ratchet was suddenly set on high alert when he heard something like wings unevenly beating above. His head shot up, too fast for his exhausted processor to calculate, making his vision swim momentarily. When he refocused, his fear of what was approaching had been true.

Predaking.

No, no not Predaking. Not now of all times!

Ratchet whipped out his weapons and stood on the defensive. He put himself between the medbay and the dragon-like devil as the Predacon lighted n the ground just feet away. Predaking, however, showed no signs of aggression. His wings were back, his body subdued, and his head low. Still, he was treading fast towards Ratchet.

Ratchet waited, weapons still bared, until he saw Predaking carrying something large in his great jaws. Finally, Predaking stopped in front of Ratchet and carefully set down his cargo. He then took his robot form and gathered up the other, smaller Predacon in his arms. Though begrudgingly so, Predaking's sallow eyes looked directly into Ratchet's.

"Medic," the dragon rumbled. "I do not wish to harm you." And when Ratchet took in Predaking's resigned, flat voice, he knew it was true.

Ratchet retracted his blades and slowly, carefully approached Predaking and his unconscious friend. Predaking did nothing to stop him, but still eyed him closely. He watched quietly as Ratchet looked the unnamed Predacon over.

The disease wreaking havoc in the bodies of Cybertronians was not picky when it came to animalistic bots, apparently. This one wasn't too far-gone, but he was getting bad. Blue welts spotted his helm and were streaked across his back and chest. Ratchet made a humming noise as he sized up the wounds.

Predaking's vents hissed a small sigh, but it came out like a frustrated grunt.

"There are others," he growled.

Ratchet nodded. Of course there were.

The unnamed Predacon made an uncomfortable noise and Predaking shifted his grasp. This close, Ratchet couldn't mistake the concern and fear in Predaking's eyes.

"You will help them," Predaking hissed, clearly not giving Ratchet the option not to.

Ratchet gave another nod. "Bring him in."

Arcee woke up to find herself lying on her side in the passenger's seat, facing the wall. Scrap, she hadn't meant to fall asleep. That was embarrassing.

She sat up in her seat and looked out the windshield. Everything was still calm and quiet with no signs of being pursued. She turned her gaze in the other direction and found Knock Out still at the helm of the shuttle. His optics flickered towards her and back, then focused again on her.

"Oh!" Knock Out spoke. "Good morning."

Arcee tried to rub the crick out of her neck. "Morning?"

"Well, according to Rewind, we've been flying for over twelve megacycles," Knock Out replied. "So, yes, I believe it's morning."

"Mm," Arcee affirmed, giving her head a swift twist and rolling her shoulders.

Geez, that seat was uncomfortable.

As the events of what could be considered as "last night" reoccurred to her, she looked back around the seat to assure herself that Rewind and Smokescreen were still unharmed. Rewind was leaning back in his chair, seemingly staring off into space. Smokescreen was nowhere to be found. Despite Rewind's empty gaze, he apparently noticed Arcee searching the cabin with her optics.

"Smokescreen went to go get some Energon," he mumbled.

Smokescreen reappeared almost immediately, holding two cubes of Energon in each servo. He tossed one to Rewind and dropped two on the center console between Knock Out and Arcee.

"Find anything yet?" Smokescreen asked Rewind.

"Nope," Rewind replied absently, sliding his mask open and popping a chunk of Energon into the opening.

"Find?" Arcee turned her frame in her seat into a more comfortable position to see Smokescreen.

"Rewind's looking through his database to figure out who that guy with the scrap all over him was," Smokescreen answered, taking a bite of his breakfast.

"And I've _already_ told them that his name is Chop Shop," Knock Out added. "He's a brutish kleptomaniac who doesn't know when to let go of a grudge."

"And Scalpel's a psychopathic surgeon with more knives than personality," Smokescreen continued, repeating what Knock Out had told them only twenty minutes ago.

"That's all he'll tell us," Rewind muttered, gaze still blindly cast at the chair in front of him.

"Because nothing else about them matters," Knock Out snapped. "They'll never be able to catch us from this far out. They can't cause any damage outside their range. Done deal."

"There isn't much information about them," Rewind said, ignoring Knock Out. "Looks like they left Cybertron a few months into the war. That's where any records of them stop."

"So, they've just been on that asteroid for millions of years snatching up passing ships?" Smokescreen asked.

"Pretty much," Rewind replied, blinking back into reality.

"Good to know," Knock Out cut in, irritation creeping into his voice. "You can tell Ultra Magnus all about it when you get back."

Rewind's visor flashed with equal irritation. The cabin grew awkwardly quiet. After a solid minute, Smokescreen shuffled at little in his seat. "So, when we do find Perceptor, what's the plan after that?"

Arcee realized that both Smokescreen and Rewind were looking at her for an answer. Knock Out didn't take he optics off their flight path.

"We'll bring him back to Cybertron," Arcee answered. "He and Ratchet will know what to do then."

"Well, I was just thinking," Smokescreen went on. "What if he doesn't come back with us?"

"He will," Arcee replied solidly.

"But, what if he _doesn't_?" Smokescreen asked again. "What if he can't help? What if we don't even find him?"

"We _will _find him," Arcee repeated. "We don't have another choice."

Arcee's gaze dared Smokescreen to argue, which he didn't attempt. Her optics then softened a little. "We'll deal with what ifs when we get to them."

Smokescreen tore his optics away from Arcee's and absently looked out the window. Rewind had his head turned to the opposite window.

"I wonder how many of them are left," Rewind said quietly, his concern for Blaster and fellow mini-cassettes obvious. Arcee didn't have time to feel any sympathy for him before Knock Out leaned back exasperatedly in the driver's seat, sighing loudly.

"Can we _please_ talk about something _other_ than impending trauma?"

Rewind went rigid with distain for Knock Out's apathy, but decided to say nothing. Really, what else should he have expected?

A puff of air hissed out of Arcee's vents. The aggravation lacing Knock Out's EM field was hard to ignore, especially when she was sitting right next to him. It was also pretty conspicuous that Knock Out was tired, obviously from being the only one awake to drive for the past few hours. While it was admittedly touching that Knock Out had stayed the course during the other three bots' unconsciousness, he wasn't a pleasure to be around at the moment.

Well, even less of a pleasure than usual.

Arcee turned her head back to Smokescreen and he caught her glance. "Wanna take the wheel for a bit?" she asked. Smokescreen glanced quickly at Knock Out, nodded, and got up from his seat.

As if on cue, Knock Out immediately relieved himself from driving duty and switched seats with Smokescreen. Things were all well and good for a second before Rewind looked up and locked an annoyed gaze with the Aston Martin beside him.

"Hey, Arcee, mind if I switch with you, too?" Rewind requested, meeting her optics with a "get me away from him" gaze. Arcee got up and moved to Rewind's previous seat, allowing Rewind to happily climb into the passenger seat.

Awkward silence descended again until Smokescreen thankfully broke it.

"So, Rewind, got any music?"

"Music?" Rewind echoed. "Um, I think I have some of Blaster's Ragnarök and Roll recorded somewhere."

"Do _not_," Knock Out growled, leaning back and pinching the area between his eyes.

"Aright,_ alright,_" Rewind groaned. "I don't think I have anything else."

Smokescreen shrugged. "I kinda wish I had saved some music from Earth," he mused. "They had some pretty good stuff. I should have swiped a few of Bulkhead's Slash Monkey CDs from Miko for the trip."

"What's a Slash Monkey?" Rewind asked, his visor furrowing a little. "And what's a Miko?"

"We didn't tell you about our Earth friends?" Smokescreen said. "Aw, you'd love them! Miko was one of them. The other two were named Jack and Raf. They were the best!"

"You knew some Earth beings?" Rewind breathed. "But, aren't they tiny? How'd you make sure they didn't…y' know…?"

"Get squished?" Smokescreen finished. "You get used to watching where your peds go."

Rewind reflexively lifted his peds off the floor. "I see."

Smokescreen shrugged happily. "Yeah. Anyway, humans have all kinds of stuff. They make pretty good movies, too! Jack brought some to the base sometimes. A few times we went to the Drive-In Theater in town."

Knock Out's scoffed. "Lucky for you, Breakdown or I never saw you there."

Arcee shot him a mock-surprised glance. "I can't imagine Megatron letting you two off to take part in human commodities."

"That's because he never knew," Knock Out replied. "Megs was always too busy and Vehicons aren't suspicious types." He chuckled a little. "Breakdown could never get enough of those 'creature features'."

"Bulkhead and Bumblebee liked those, too," Smokescreen added. "Arcee even went with us to a movie once."

"Only once?" Knock Out smirked.

Arcee shrugged indignantly. "Bee wouldn't stop asking."

"Come on," Smokescreen chided jokingly. "It was a good movie!"

"What was it called?" Rewind asked.

"Guardians on the Galaxy," Arcee responded. "It wasn't that bad."

"Oh please, you know you loved it!" Smokescreen laughed. "It was the last movie we saw before-nngh…"

Smokescreen's sentence trained off as he raised a servo to his neck. Concern grew as he fell silent for longer than expected.

"Smokescreen?" Arcee said, receiving no response. "Smoke?"

Smokescreen didn't reply, clawing at one spot on his throat cables. Arcee reached out and clasped his shoulder. "Smokescreen!"

"Huh-what?" Smokescreen jolted, his hand still glued to his neck.

"Are you okay?" Arcee asked, letting go of his shoulder. Smokescreen nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just…I just gotta…" The blue sports car's speech became thick and he swayed a little in his seat. He clumsily managed to stop the shuttle in midflight before catching himself on the dashboard. His vents sounded clogged and sticky. "My glossa feel's heavy."

Arcee was on her feet in a klik, bracing both servos on his shoulders. She glanced at Rewind and did a double take when she noticed that the smaller 'bot was doubled over himself. Knock Out was alerted too at this point, medic instincts drawing him to have a look at Rewind.

Arcee had shifted Smokescreen to lean back and the younger bot wheezed sickly, mouth handing open. Knock Out set Rewind in a similar position. The mini-cassette had already passed out.

"This ship has a first aid kit, right?" Knock Out asked hurriedly. Arcee nodded.

"Bring it here," Knock Out ordered, and Arcee was swift to respond. Knock Out shifted to tend to Smokescreen, gently examining his throat cables. When he eased Smokescreen forward to look at the back of hi neck, he saw it: a dark smear of cobalt splotched across the cables. But, to Knock Out's ever-growing dread, he saw something else.

He saw a solid, round object buried into the welt.


	12. Chapter 12

The two vacant recharge slabs in the shuttle served a purpose now. One was tilted forward to allow Smokescreen to vent easier, though not to much improvement. Rewind lay limp on the other.

Both were still alive. There was at least some good news.

Knock Out retrieved a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit and tried ever so gently to dislodge the small object embedded in Smokescreen's throat.

Luckily, it popped out with little effort on Knock Out's part. The object was no bigger than the tweezers and was about as long as the tip of Knock Out's thumb. He let it rest in a glass container and went on to look Rewind over. An identical pin-like object was lodged in Rewind's helm. Growing around it was a blemish of imitation Cosmic Rust. He sealed both objects in the container.

There was probably more internal damage, Knock Out was certain there was, but he didn't have the tools to look any further.

Arcee stood quietly in the room, watching all three mechs like a hawk. She spoke up after both obstructions had been removed.

"What are those?"

Knock Out brought the container up to his face, studying it. There wasn't anything odd about them. They were just small, cone shaped pins. But, looking closer, he noticed that each had four seams near the middle. They were all popped open. Knock Out knew only one person who could execute engineering on so small a scale.

"These are why Smokescreen is choking out garbled static," Knock Out finally replied. "They didn't give Rewind any help, either."

Arcee approached and tried to get a good look at the pins, but Knock Out pulled them away and promptly dropped them into the waste bin, the waste bin combusting them on the spot.

"Those don't matter," Knock Out said before Arcee could speak. "What matters is getting these two back to Cybertron for better treatment."

Arcee reeled back. "What? Back to Cybertron?"

Knock Out shot her an exasperated look. "Where else are we supposed to take them?"

"But, if we backtrack now," Arcee replied, "We might loose Perceptor."

"Perceptor could be _anywhere_!" Knock Out rebutted. "We could be chasing that one signal from all those stellarcycles ago forever!"

"At least it's something!" Arcee growled. "If we don't find him, everyone on Cybertron is doomed to a slow death!"

"And what if _we_ die?" Knock Out made sweeping gesture two all four of them. "Smokescreen and Rewind have a shorter chance of survival here than on Cybertron. And when they die, what will happen to us? This ship will become a plague ship!" He took a confident step towards her. "Is that what you want? Do you want us all to die out here in space?"

Arcee landed a swift strike to Knock Out's face with her knuckles. He had no time to recover as Arcee struck him again, this time with her foot. With her opposite foot, she pinned Knock Out to the wall. Her optics were cold and livid. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but removed her ped from his chest instead, letting Knock Out down. Knock Out said nothing as Arcee turned her back to him, focusing her attention to the two ill 'bots. The only sound in the room was Smokescreen's labored venting.

Knock Out watched as Arcee stood silently between the two recharge slabs and looked from Smokescreen to Rewind and back again. Her face was drained of any of her previous spite and just looked…blank. Knock Out felt as if he would invoke her wrath again if he so much as vented incorrectly.

"I don't know," Arcee muttered.

"What?' Knock Out asked before he could stop himself.

Arcee turned to him, her eyes hard, but not as hard as before.

"I said I don't know."

Knock Out looked away. "Oh."

Arcee turned to the others again, staring blankly at the wall.

Both she and Knock Out jumped when Smokescreen twitched a little. His arm moved in a slow, shaky motion as he stretched his digits upwards towards Arcee.

"Arcee…"

Arcee grabbed Smokescreens servo and gently pushed his arm back down. "Don't move," she said in a soft tone. "Take it easy."

Smokescreen wrenched open his optics and found Arcee. He tried to speak, but all that came out was an unpleasant gurgle.

"Go back to sleep," Arcee said, letting out a small sigh. "We're taking you and Rewind back to Cybertron." She looked to Knock Out, who averted his gaze again.

"But, what about-?" Smokescreen asked, but Arcee shook her head.

"We'll find Perceptor after we get you home."

Smokescreen's servo closed around Arcee's arm, tighter this time. His optics were pleading. "We can't just-" he was cut off by his own vocalizer.

"We'll think of something," Arcee said, gently releasing Smokescreen's grip on her arm. But, Smokescreen snatched her servo so she couldn't leave.

"No," he coughed. "Let me finish."

Arcee faced him, holding up his servo in both of hers and giving him her full attention.

"Remember when we all had to leave the base after Megatron attacked it? When Optimus almost…?"

Arcee nodded. Smokescreen wheezed horribly before continuing.

"When I brought him the Forge of Solus Prime, he told me not to use it on him. He told me that the survival of all Cybertronian kind was more important than any of us."

There was uncertainty in Smokescreen's voice and Arcee realized what he was implying.

"Please," Smokescreen urged, staring unblinking into Arcee's eyes. "Don't worry about us."

Arcee broke her gaze and stared down at Smokescreen's servo, which was closed sincerely around one of hers.

"Arcee," Smokescreen coughed, his voice wavering. "Arcee, promise me. Promise you'll keep looking."

Arcee didn't look at him for a while, just absently rubbing a thumb over Smokescreen's knuckles. Finally, she took a deep, resigned vent.

"I promise."

Smokescreen finally relaxed, servo going limp in Arcee's.

"Good," he muttered.

Silently, Arcee rested Smokescreen's servo on his middle and glanced at Rewind. The mini-cassette was still asleep. Then her eyes focused on Knock Out, who still kept a safe distance.

"Well, if we must keep going," Knock Out started, "Then I suggest you drive so I can weld their wounds together for the time being."

Arcee offered him a stiff nod before leaving, her hand trailing the edge of Rewind's recharge slab as she made her way out. Knock Out watched her as she headed to the cockpit, sat down, and the shuttle jerked forward on its way. She didn't say a word, and the fact was severely bothering Knock Out. Still, he took the disposable welding torch from the first aid kit and began sealing the open welt on Smokescreen's neck. The soft whirr of the torch filled the silence and, in turn, let the Aston Martin gather some of his nerves back. As expected, the welts began popping up on other places around Smokescreen's throat, and Knock Out had to apply patches where it was too dangerous to weld. It was touchy work, patching a mech's throat. Thankfully, Smokescreen remained still, aside from the occasional reactionary twitch.

After Smokescreen's throat cables were temporarily sealed, Knock Out leaned forward and pressed his audials to Smokescreen's upper chest. From what he could judge without an internal listening device, Smokescreen's vents were cycling a bit easier now. Without proper cycling, Smokescreen could overheat dangerously quickly. His cycling wasn't exactly up to standard, but he would be all right, for now.

Knock Out then turned to work on Rewind. Not long after he sealed the last welt, the smaller mech's head shifted on his shoulders. Rewind's optics onlined, but dimmed as he groaned and lifted a servo to his helm. He tried to sit up when Knock Out lightly pushed him back onto the slab.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Knock Out said, his voice low.

"Mmfine…" Rewind muttered, trying to take his shoulder back from under Knock Out's hand. "Jus- a headache."

"It'll be more than a headache if you don't lie still," Knock Out replied curtly.

Rewind shot him a questioning, yet irritated look. "Why?"

"Long story short," Knock Out replied. "Somehow you and Smokey over there were infected by the very thing we're trying to fix."

A look of confusion, then fear, and finally more confusion crossed Rewind's visor. "How? Ratchet looked us over before we left. We were clean!"

"Not anymore," Knock Out stated simply.

Rewind brought both hands to his helm, gently feeling the top of it and yanking one hand away when he brushed over the wound. It hurt upon contact and spiked his already raging headache.

"Don't do that," Knock Out added.

"Yeah," Rewind replied shortly. "I kind of got th- wait," his servos rubbed his helm again. His visor suddenly flashed harshly. "My archives! If this stuff spreads any further, it could-"

"Relax," Knock Out huffed, moving Rewind to lie back again. "The more you freak out, the faster everything will get worse."

"Where's Arcee?" Rewind asked. The fear in his voice was simultaneously drenched in suspicion.

"Driving," Knock Out answered "She's okay. You two need to stay put to keep it that way."

Rewind glared daggers at the Aston Martin. "Are you threatening me?"

"I meant stay put so she doesn't get sick, too," Knock Out rolled his eyes. "Do you honestly think I intend to hurt her or you?"

Rewind didn't answer but held his scrutinizing gaze. Knock Out sighed.

"You're impossible."

"You're untrustworthy," Rewind shot back.

Knock Out whipped around to face him. "Primus in the heavens! What will it take for you and everyone else to stop suspecting me of every little thing?!"

"You're a defector," Rewind snapped. "Who in their right mind would put any trust in a bot with flip-flopping loyalties?"

"I have no loyalties!" Knock Out roared. "Loyalties are for saps with no sense of independence!"

"Then _no one_ will _ever_ trust you," Rewind replied, then pressed his head into his hands to sooth his headache.

Knock Out's clawed hands itched with ire, but he had no further interest in arguing with Rewind. He was starting to acquire a headache of his own.

"Just stay put," Knock Out commanded before leaving, shutting the door behind him. Slowly, he ventured into the cabin, but stayed out of the cockpit. Arcee was silently driving. Knock Out pretended like she wasn't obviously aware of his presence and settled in one of the cabin seats.

He'd have to check back on Smokescreen and Rewind sometime again, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

Iacon's center was just a couple of ill mechs short of quarantine. Travel to and from Iacon had been discouraged for quite some time, but talk spread quickly about Ultra Magnus deciding to seal off Iacon completely. Whether or not this was true was unclear to Ratchet.

So many had left. A few of evacuated before things got bad, but the majority was gone after First Aid's demise. The death toll had begun shortly after that.

Those that still stuck around were the immobile ill or the bot's selfless enough to stay and assist Ratchet. But, the fact remained that nothing would improve without a solid cure, if there was even one to begin with.

And then there were the Predacons. Predaking had been right about other infected Predacons. Thankfully, there weren't many. The ones that were laid up, however, were about five times more difficult to handle than the other 'bots. The phrase "sit still" was completely lost on them, deafened by fight-or-flight instincts when it came to needles and the like.

Healthy Predacons remained far away from Iacon. All but Predaking, who appeared each day at sun up to loom by the swelling Medbay, peering through every window he could. Ratchet had the feeling that Predaking was scrutinizing every move he made when tending to a Predacon. Predaking would follow him around from outside as he moved about the medbay.

The third day of this had ended and Ratchet still had neither the desire nor the strength to confront Predaking. However, Predaking himself instigated the encounter.

Before he took his leave for the night, he pushed open the medbay door and let himself in. He found his way through the crowded area with little care for what his kibble knocked over or hit. He marched straight to Ratchet when he saw him.

"Medic," he prompted, causing Ratchet to cringe. "I wish to speak with you."

Ratchet sighed. "Yes, of course in a minute."

"Now," Predaking growled.

"I'm with someone," Ratchet replied, gesturing to the 'bot he was currently working on.

"I said-" Predaking suddenly grabbed Ratchet by the helm and dragged him away. "Now."

Knocking more things over than before, Predaking trudged out of the medbay with Ratchet in tow. He didn't' let Ratchet go until they were outside.

When he was let down, Ratchet was beyond the point of furious. Against his better judgment, he was very well ready to give Predaking and audial-full when the large Predacon raised a servo to silence him.

"Where is your commander?" Predaking asked.

Ratchet's initial anger died and it turned into frustrated exhaustion. He gestured dramatically to the tower above the clinic. "Ultra Magnus is up there. Does that answer your question?"

"No," Predaking stated. Ratchet resisted the urge to turn right around and head back in the medbay. But, he couldn't risk the brute with the oversized finials in front of him causing a ruckus again.

"I men your other commander. The Prime," Predaking explained.

_Oh. _That_ commander. _Ratchet thought. "You won't find Optimus Prime anywhere," he said. "He's no longer with us."

Predaking nodded once. "I see." He paused for a klik. Ratchet was almost surprised to realize that it was now Predaking that was choosing his words carefully.

"Then, I say to you what I have been meaning to say to the Prime," the large mech said. "As long as any of my kind reside here under your care, then my warriors and I will continue to patrol this area."

Ratchet instinctively looked around. There were more of them here than just Predaking?

"If any threat reaches Iacon, we will be at the ready," Predaking went on and then looked Ratchet dead in the eye. "But only for the time my subjects are being treated here."

Still wondering where any other where, Ratchet nodded. "I understand."

"Good," Predaking answered. Then he reformed into his beastly shape and took off into the night sky.

Ratchet glanced at the tower above. This would not be easy to explain to Ultra Magnus.


	13. Story Has Been Moved to Ao3

Hello, everyone! Cosmo, here!

Sorry, I don't have an update for you all. I do, however, have an announcement.

Due to some complications, _Cobalt Steel _has been officially moved to Archive of Our Own, the reason being that it's easier to edit and post there than it is here on . Feedback is also easier to receive and reply to. If you wish to continue reading, please search Cobalt Steel on Ao3.

Thank you all for your viewership and have a wonderful day!


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